Bubbling, chapter 1

Edited version:

zomg stop right there.

Original version (if you were mean and didn't stop. But stop, for Lonely's sake. It's for the better, trust me.):

"No." I tell Mom that right away. I don't want HER to come here and mess up my summer that was supposed to be the best one ever. I don't, I don't, I don't.

"But Satin, dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood."

"But it doesn't feel like that. And besides, I bet she's some meat-eating hillbilly who wears a straw hat and denim overalls and doesn't even know what couscous is..." My voice is starting to break. I don't want her to be here. Me, Misty and JK had planned to do everything fun. And now SHE'd come and ruin that everything.

SHE is my second cousin from backward Northern Australia and Mom doesn't even remember her name.

"Satin, the fact that you've never met her doesn't mean she's a hillbilly. She can be whatever she is, but remember you can always teach her what couscous is." Mom gives me a stupid grin and presses her lips together to smooth the lipstick. It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor. Mom has worn that shade for over two decades, and I bet that's why my middle name is Elizabeth.

She grabs the car keys and calls bye. By glancing behind, she spots my asking countenance.

"I'm leaving to the airport to pick up the girl. When you wake up, she has arrived."

Oh no. How come she's already coming? This had already been decided? And I thought Mom was kind of asking my permission. Why didn't I know anything?

This is a conspiracy against me. Everybody knows. But not me.

There's a big mirror in the hall. I look somehow pathetic. Kind of narrow. Here I am, a blonde complaining vegetarian vamp whom the whole world is against. A little bit like Barbie. But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen.

And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink.

I'm wearing Miss Sixties and a yellow tank top. It doesn't have the washing instructions in the back. I cut them off with Mom's nail scissors as they were constantly itching my neck.

Now I almost wish I hadn't done that. I'm irritated, and I'd rather be irritated about an itching neck than the fact that I'm supposed to babysit a second cousin who wears her hair in two braids and whose name is completely forgettable and who has never visited a Louis Vuitton store. Not that I had - those bags are so ugly - but there's no doubt of that she is a total countrygirl.

I wonder what her name is. What could be a suitable name for a peasant? Maybe... Victoria-Josephine?

Ha ha ha.

Ugh. I shake my head and my hair hits me in the face. I don't want to think about her. I stand up quickly, it gets black in my eyes. I feel dizzy and sit down again. Then I stand up slowly and make my way to the kitchen cupboard. Usually I watch pretty closely what I put into my mouth, but when I see the yummy chocolate cookies - the ones with the picture of a sailing boat - i just have to snatch one. Better to make the best of the time what's left before SHE arrives in Melbourne.

It's all Velvet's fault. Velvet is my big sister who left home to be an exchange student in France, or at least that's what she had skilfully staged. I think she is really in France, but as a dancer in the Moulin Rouge, or then she's railing around Europe, which she definitely should not be doing. If she hadn't gone, Mom had never tried to get me some "company".

Boring. The house is boring because there's no one else here. Although I don't really long for HER coming over and start making noise. It's quiet. I grab the phone.

"Hey, I was startin' to worry 'cause you didn't call me!"

"Hi, Misty", I say, somewhat exhaustedly.

"Listen, you know that cafe 'round the corner? Carambola or whatsit?"

"Carambar."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Listen, there's this super cute guy workin' there. Let's go there for a couple of cakes so we can check him out. Cathy said he's not taken."

"Seriously, Mis. Are you really going after some pie boy? He must be at least twenty. And besides, you can't really trust Cathy, can you?"

"Whatever, but he can't be twenty. Maybe eighteen."

"Still."

"Whatever. But Cathy knows these things, you know?"

"I bet she's been with that guy herself and now they've split up."

"Doubt that. But you're comin', right? Meet me at seven?"

"Well, in fact... I can't actually come now. My second cousin is coming from somewhere north and I have to wait for her. She's some hillbilly."

"Oh no. Can I come over and check her out some day?"

"Do you really want to?"

"Yeah. Well, OK, I'm going with JK, then. Bye."

"Bye."

Oh, gee. I don't want to show off my second cousin. Especially not for Misty. I don't want anybody to know that I have that kind of relatives. I'm already ashamed of her though I've never even seen her. But now that's going to change. I mean the fact that I've never met her. Even though I wouldn't want to. I mean, to meet her.

You can't really notice that my mind is reeling, can you?

There's one thing for sure. I'm going to be the nastiest I can toward her. Maybe then she'll go away. That's how it goes. I won't greet her, I won't show her around, I won't even try to make her comfortable and tadah! By the morning she's gone. What an ingenious plan. She may go to be the pain in some other almost-relative's neck.

"Yeah", I tell my purple pillow. "Yeah."

The pillow doesn't make a sound, but I can almost sense its answer. It promises to
help me in everything, the loyal pillow darling. But I've made it myself, so that's how it's supposed to be. It obeys only me and not any second cousins. That's how it goes.

I can hear the slam of a car door. Is it ours? Or maybe it's Mr Coldron's. He comes home from work around this time.

But when the key starts to make noise in the door lock, I don't think of Mr Coldron anymore. I look at my pillow, give it a nod and jump up to switch the lights off. I curl under my blanket and feel the cool, satin surface of the pillow on my feet.

I don't hear any faked oh-how-beautiful gasps. Actually I don't hear anything until the knock on my door. I keep my eyes tightly shut although I'm dying of curiosity.

"Oh", Mom says softly. "Satin's already asleep."

My Mom is the only person in the whole world who's able to believe that someone over six goes to sleep before seven.

"Well, you'll meet each other in the morning, then. Fun, isn't it?"

SHE doesn't say anything. She's having a pause in which you can nod and smile politely.

They close the door. I randomly whisper good night and frantically wonder what Victoria-Josephine looks like.

The pillow's not cold anymore.

Ok, so here's the review as promised. I'll try to make it as in-depth as I can.

So I liked the story, and the dialouge for the most part is good, beliavble at least. I'm interested in Satin (cool name, by the way) and she had me hooked from her very first sentences. I think you've done the Mother good as well, the lipstick is a nice touch.

This is good:

"But Satin dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood."

I can imagine her saying that.

The rest progresses quite nicely, the teenage girl's thought are compeling and I kept wanting to read more. Good description on the house and her appearance- just watch you don't get too bogged down on appearance- it shouldn't carry your story. The dialogue and plot should be the backbone. Otherwise the reader will be wondering subconciously "why isn't anything else happening?" and begin to wander off.

Oh and before I forget- alarm bells are ringing in my ears when I read this:

"Hi, Misty", I say, somewhat exhausted.

You're showing.

It should be

"Hi, Misty", I say exhaustedly

Funny here:

"Listen, you know that cafe 'round the corner? Carambola or whatsit?"

"Carambar."

And good ending about the pillow.

All in all, a great start here. You just need to step your game up a little and give the piece more punch. PM me when you post chapter two.

I think this is really good. Try not to use I too much as we already know you are talking about yourself. Other than that keep up the hood work

Demeter wrote:"No." I tell that to Mom right away. I don't want HER to come here and mess up my summer that Replace "that with which was supposed to be the best one ever. I don't, I don't, I don't. Maybe it's just me, but I really don't like this repetition - not that effective, nad makes your character sound like a spoilt brat. Uh... unless that was meant to be the effect, of course.

"But Satin comma dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood."

"But not mentally Huh? . And besides, I bet she's some meat-eating hillbilly who wears a straw hat and denim overalls and doesn't even know what couscous is..." My voice is starting to break. I don't want her to be here. I, Misty and JK had planned to do everything fun. And now she'd come and ruin that everything.

SHE is my second cousin from backward Northern Australia and Mom doesn't even remember her name.

"Satin, the fact that you've never met her, No need for comma doesn't mean she's a hillbilly. She can be whatever she is, but you can always teach her what couscous is." Mom gives me a stupid grin and presses her lips together to smooth the lipstick. It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor. Mom has worn that shade for over two decades, and I bet that's why my middle name is Elizabeth.

She grabs the car keys and calls bye. By glancing behind, she spots my asking countenance.

"I'm leaving to the airport to pick up the girl. When you wake up, she's here not "she'll be here? ."

Oh no. How come she's already coming? This had already been decided? And I thought Mom was kind of asking my permission. Why didn't I know anything?

This is a conspiracy against me. Everybody knows. But not me.

There's a big mirror in the hall. I look somehow pathetic. Kind of narrow. Here I am, a blonde complaining vegetarian vamp who the whole world is against. A little bit like Barbie. But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen.

And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink.

I'm wearing Miss Sixties and a yellow tank top. It doesn't have the washing instructions in the back. I cut them off with Mom's nail scissors as they were constantly itching my neck. Um... what exactly was the point of you telling us this?

Now I almost hope I hadn't done that. I'm irritated, and I'd rather be irritated about itching neck than the fact that I'm supposed to babysit a second cousin who wears her hair on two braids and whose name is completely forgettable and who has never visited a Louis Vuitton store. Not that I had - those bags are so ugly - but there's no doubt of that she is a total countrygirl.

I wonder what her name is. What could be a suitable name for a peasant? Maybe... Victoria-Josephine?

Ha ha ha.

Ugh. I shake my head and my hair hits me in the face. I don't want to think about her. I stand up quickly, it gets black in my eyes. I feel dizzy and sit down again. Now Then I stand up slowly and make my way to the kitchen cupboard. Usually I watch pretty closely what I put into my mouth, but when I see the yummy chocolate cookies - the ones with the picture of a sailing boat - i just have to snatch one. Better to make the best of the time what's left before SHE arrives in Melbourne.

It's all Velvet's fault. Velvet is my big sister who left home to be an exchange student in France, or at least that's what she had skilfully staged pretended . I think she is really in France, but as a dancer in the Moulin Rouge, or then she's railing around Europe, which she definitely should not be doing. If she hadn't gone, Mom had never tried to get me some "company".

Boring. The house is boring because there's no one else here. Although I don't really long for HER Referring to that cousin in capitals is getting a bit tedious coming over and start making noise. It's quiet. I grab the phone.

"Hey, I was startin' to worry 'cause you didn't call me!"

"Hi, Misty", I say, somewhat exhaustedly.

"Listen, you know that cafe 'round the corner? Carambola or whatsit?"

"Carambar."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Listen, there's this super cute guy workin' there. Let's go there for a couple of cakes so we can check him out. Cathy said he's not taken."

"Seriously, Mis. Are you really going after some pie boy? He must be at least twenty. And besides, you can't really trust Cathy, can you?"

"Whatever, but he can't be twenty. Maybe eighteen."

"Still."

"Whatever. But Cathy knows these things, you know?"

"I bet she's been with that guy herself and now they've split up."

"Doubt that. But you're comin', right? Meet me at seven?"

"Well, in fact... I can't actually come now. My second cousin is coming from somewhere north and I have to wait for her. She's some hillbilly."

"Oh no. Can I come over and check her out some day?"

"Do you really want to?"

"Yeah. Well, OK, I'm going with JK, then. Bye."

"Bye."

Oh, gee. I don't want to show off my second cousin. Especially not for Misty. I don't want anybody to know that I have that kind of relatives. I'm already ashamed of her though I've never even seen her. But now that's going to change. I mean the fact that I've never met her. Even though I wouldn't want to. I mean, to meet her.

There's one thing for sure. I'm going to be the nastiest I can toward her. Maybe then she'll go away. That's how it goes. I won't greet her, I won't show her around, I won't even try to make her comfortable and tadah! By the morning she's gone. What an ingenious plan. She may go to be the pain in some other almost-relative's neck.

"Yeah", I tell my purple pillow. "Yeah."

The pillow doesn't make a sound, but I can almost sense its answer. It promises to foramt error
help me in everything, the loyal pillow darling. But I've made it myself, so that's how it's supposed to be. It obeys only me and not any second cousins. That's how it goes.

I can hear the slam of a car door. Is it ours? Or maybe it's Mr Coldron's. He comes home from work around this time.

But when the key starts to make noise in the door lock, I don't think of Mr Coldron anymore. I look at my pillow, give it a nod and jump up to switch the lights off. I curl under my blanket and feel the cool, satin surface of the pillow on my feet.

I don't hear any faked oh-how-beautiful gasps. Actually I don't hear anything until the knock on my door. I keep my eyes tightly shut although I'm dying of curiosity.

"Oh", Mom says softly. "Satin's already asleep."

My Mom is the only person in the whole world who's able to believe that someone over six goes to sleep before seven.

"Well, you'll meet each other in the morning, then. Fun, isn't it?"

SHE doesn't say anything. She's having a pause in which you can nod and smile politely.

They close the door. I randomly whisper good night and frantically wonder what Victoria-Josephine looks alike. like, not alike

The pillow's not cold anymore.

Great character development, you've got that down pat. Good desciptions, I like your style, and the idea is interesting too

Only thing I'd watch out for are the tenses, but apart from that, all's good.

Demeter wrote:"No." I tell that to Mom right away. (for some reason this sentence feels a little awkward. That's just a suggestion, though.) I don't want HER to come here and mess up my summer that was supposed to be the best one ever. I don't, I don't, I don't.

"But Satin, dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood."

"But not mentally. (Uh...this doesn't make sense, lol. Mentally of the same blood?) And besides, I bet she's some meat-eating hillbilly who wears a straw hat and denim overalls and doesn't even know what couscous is..." (Haha) My voice is starting to break. I don't want her to be here. I, (Me, or "Misty, JK and I") Misty and JK had planned to do everything fun. And now she'd (if you're going to capitalize SHE, do it all the time.) come and ruin that everything.

SHE is my second cousin from backward Northern Australia and Mom doesn't even remember her name.

"Satin, the fact that you've never met her, (nix the comma) doesn't mean she's a hillbilly. She can be whatever she is, but you can always teach her what couscous is." (Again, this isn't clear) Mom gives me a stupid grin and presses her lips together to smooth the lipstick. It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor. Mom has worn that shade for over two decades, and I bet that's why my middle name is Elizabeth. (Hehe)

She grabs the car keys and calls bye. By glancing behind, she spots my asking countenance.

"I'm leaving to the airport to pick up the girl. When you'll wake up, she's here." (Ooh, another awkward sentence grammatically)

Oh no. How come she's already coming? This had already been decided? And I thought Mom was kind of asking my permission. Why didn't I know anything?

This is a conspiracy against me. Everybody knows. But not me.

There's a big mirror in the hall. I look somehow pathetic. Kind of narrow. Here I am, a blonde complaining vegetarian vamp (WHAT?) who(m) the whole world is against. A little bit like Barbie. But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen. (This doesn't really make sense)

And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink.

I'm wearing Miss Sixties and a yellow tank top. It doesn't have the washing instructions in the back. I cut them off with Mom's nail scissors as they were constantly itching my neck.

Now I almost hope (wish) I hadn't done that. I'm irritated, and I'd rather be irritated about (an) itching neck than the fact that I'm supposed to babysit a second cousin who wears her hair on (in) two braids and whose name is completely forgettable and who has never visited a Louis Vuitton store. Not that I had - those bags are so ugly - but there's no doubt of that she is a total countrygirl. (One word or two? *ponders*)

I wonder what her name is. What could be a suitable name for a peasant? Maybe... Victoria-Josephine?

Ha ha ha.

Ugh. I shake my head and my hair hits me in the face. I don't want to think about her. I stand up quickly, it gets black in my eyes. I feel dizzy and sit down again. Then I stand up slowly and make my way to the kitchen cupboard. Usually I watch pretty closely what I put into my mouth, but when I see the yummy chocolate cookies - the ones with the picture of a sailing boat - i just have to snatch one. Better to (nix the to) make the best of the time what's left before SHE arrives in Melbourne.

It's all Velvet's fault. Velvet is my big sister who left home to be an exchange student in France, or at least that's what she had skilfully staged. I think she is really in France, but as a dancer in the Moulin Rouge, or then she's railing around Europe, which she definitely should not be doing. If she hadn't gone, Mom had never tried to get me some "company".

Boring. The house is boring because there's no one else here. Although I don't really long for HER coming over and start making noise. It's quiet. I grab the phone.

"Hey, I was startin' to worry 'cause you didn't call me!"

"Hi, Misty", I say, somewhat exhaustedly.

"Listen, you know that cafe 'round the corner? Carambola or whatsit?"

"Carambar."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Listen, there's this super cute guy workin' there. Let's go there for a couple of cakes so we can check him out. Cathy said he's not taken."

"Seriously, Mis. Are you really going after some pie boy? He must be at least twenty. And besides, you can't really trust Cathy, can you?"

"Whatever, but he can't be twenty. Maybe eighteen."

"Still."

"Whatever. But Cathy knows these things, you know?"

"I bet she's been with that guy herself and now they've split up."

"Doubt that. But you're comin', right? Meet me at seven?"

"Well, in fact... I can't actually come now. My second cousin is coming from somewhere north and I have to wait for her. She's some hillbilly."

"Oh no. Can I come over and check her out some day?"

"Do you really want to?"

"Yeah. Well, OK, I'm going with JK, then. Bye."

"Bye."

Oh, gee. I don't want to show off my second cousin. Especially not for Misty. I don't want anybody to know that I have that kind of relative[s]s[/s]. (no 's') I'm already ashamed of her though I've never even seen her. But now that's going to change. I mean the fact that I've never met her. Even though I wouldn't want to. I mean, to meet her. (THAT was confusing, lol)

There's one thing for sure. I'm going to be the nastiest I can toward her. Maybe then she'll go away. That's how it goes. I won't greet her, I won't show her around, I won't even try to make her comfortable and tadah! By the morning she's gone. What an ingenious plan. She may go to be the pain in some other almost-relative's neck.

"Yeah", I tell my purple pillow. "Yeah."

The pillow doesn't make a sound, but I can almost sense its answer. It promises to
help me in everything, the loyal pillow darling. But I've made it myself, so that's how it's supposed to be. It obeys only me and not any second cousins. That's how it goes.

I can hear the slam of a car door. Is it ours? Or maybe it's Mr Coldron's. He comes home from work around this time.

But when the key starts to make noise in the door lock, I don't think of Mr Coldron anymore. I look at my pillow, give it a nod and jump up to switch the lights off. I curl under my blanket and feel the cool, satin surface of the pillow on my feet.

I don't hear any faked oh-how-beautiful gasps. Actually I don't hear anything until the knock on my door. I keep my eyes tightly shut although I'm dying of curiosity.

"Oh", Mom says softly. "Satin's already asleep."

My Mom is the only person in the whole world who's able to believe that someone over six goes to sleep before seven.

"Well, you'll meet each other in the morning, then. Fun, isn't it?"

SHE doesn't say anything. She's having a pause in which you can nod and smile politely.

They close the door. I randomly whisper good night and frantically wonder what Victoria-Josephine looks like.

The pillow's not cold anymore.

I like this, just the grammatical errors were confusing. Also, IS she a vampire? Because if she is, I think you should emphasize that a little more. Right now she just sounds like a spoiled rich vegetarian kid. Anyway, I'll look for more!

Demeter wrote:"No." I tell Mom that right away.

This was phrased a bit awkwardly. I think instead, you should write:
"No," I tell Mum right away.

Me, Misty and JK had planned to do everything fun. And now SHE'd come and ruin that everything.

I can see where you're going, but it's too awkward again. Instead, write:
"Me, Misty and JK had planned to have so much fun. And now SHE would come and ruin it all.

"Satin, the fact that you've never met her doesn't mean she's a hillbilly. She can be whatever she is, but remember you can always teach her what couscous is." Mom gives me a stupid grin and presses her lips together to smooth the lipstick. It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor. Mom has worn that shade for over two decades, and I bet that's why my middle name is Elizabeth.

I loved this paragraph

She grabs the car keys and calls bye. By glancing behind, she spots my asking countenance.

Awkwardly phrased. Instead, why not write:
She grabs the car keys, calling, "Goodbye!". Glancing behind of her, she spotted me, questioning eyebrows raised.

"I'm leaving to the airport to pick up the girl. When you wake up, she has arrived."

Rephrase as : "I'm going to the airport to pick up the girl. When you wake up, she will have arrived.

Oh no. How come she's already coming?

Bit awkward with the repetition of the word come. Rephrase as:
Oh no. Don't tell me she's coming already.

But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen. And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink.

I liked this. Made me smile.

Now I almost wish I hadn't done that. I'm irritated, and I'd rather be irritated about an itching neck than the fact that I'm supposed to babysit a second cousin who wears her hair in two braids and whose name is completely forgettable and who has never visited a Louis Vuitton store. Not that I had - those bags are so ugly - but there's no doubt of that she is a total countrygirl.

This made me laugh out loud - Hilarious.

I stand up quickly, it gets black in my eyes.

I think you mean 'and my eyes grow black.'

They close the door. I randomly whisper good night and frantically wonder what Victoria-Josephine looks like.

Take out the 'frantically.' It makes it awkward.

The pillow's not cold anymore.

A funny ending, made me smile.




[b]All in all, a funny, promising story.

Very well written! This is an instant 100 out of 100! A++! I got to know Satin's attitude very well. This chapter reminded me of the beginning of The Clique by Lissi Harrison. (Massie had very important plans with friends, which were crushed by the arrival of Claire Lyons, the new girl whose family was temporarily staying with the Block's. So Massie and her friends hate her already without even meeting her! ) Satin seems very unfair, and even more unforgiving about the Australian girl. I hope Satin gives her a chance! Keep up the good work and Happy Writing!

Fantastista työtä

Taidan puhuu ny kuitenki enkkuu et muutki pystyy ymärtää. .......................................................................................................................................


You did a great job (as expected). It was really good.

What impressed me was that you could write the story in the first person so well.
I myself am writing a book in first person and I know that it is harder than the third person.

The story was very realistic...........................................

You have already created a good picture of the main characters personality.

She is actually comparing herself to a barbie.... Whoa.

I'll read some more of this when I can. Great idea.


Hyvää työtä!!!!

***********************************************************************************

LORD ANZIUS WUZ HERE

Whoa. I love stories written in first person present tense! Awesomeness!

Let's see, you did a very good job conveying the personalty of the main character. Your descriptions were very good and pleasing to read. Your style was not too flowery, and not bland either. Excellent work!

"No." I tell Mom that right away. I don't want HER to come here and mess up my summer that was supposed to be the best one ever. I don't, I don't, I don't.

Okay, first off. Is this supposed to be in present tense? Because it's kind of hard to understand. But I'll get used to it. Second. Is there a reason why you capitalize any word that has to do with her cousin?

"But Satin, dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood."

Satin. Like the cloth? Or maybe it's a silky cloth.

"But it doesn't feel like that. And besides, I bet she's some meat-eating hillbilly who wears a straw hat and denim overalls and doesn't even know what couscous is..."

Haha! Meat-eating. Haha! Straw hats. Wait. Hillbilly?

It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor.

I don't think the shade color of the lipstick really matters.

There's a big mirror in the hall. I look somehow pathetic. Kind of narrow. Here I am, a blonde complaining vegetarian vamp whom the whole world is against. A little bit like Barbie. But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen.

I've never really heard of a barbie-like vampire.

And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink.

That is true. Everything is like shiny pink.

I wonder what her name is. What could be a suitable name for a peasant? Maybe... Victoria-Josephine?

Josephine?

Ha ha ha.

Her ha ha's. Kind of scare me.

Demi-
Wow, this is kind of a strange story. And where do you come up with the names Velvet and Satin?
Anyway, I'll have to read more to find out about her cousin.
-Merry

I've decided one long quote is better then three dozen little ones in this case.

Demeter wrote:"No." I tell Mom that right away. I don't want HER to come here and mess up my summer that was supposed to be the best one ever. I don't, I don't, I don't. I'd put an exclamation mark after 'No' and the third I don't. It emphesizes the point.

"But Satin, dear. She doesn't have anywhere else to go. I doubt that she desperately wants to come here and spend two months with complete strangers. Even though we are of the same blood." Don't know about the desperately in that sentence

"But it doesn't feel like that. And besides, I bet she's some meat-eating hillbilly who wears a straw hat and denim overalls and doesn't even know what couscous is..." My voice is starting to break. I don't want her to be here. Me, Misty and JK had planned to do everything fun. And now SHE'd come and ruin that everything. Who are these people? We meet Misty later, but not JK. Is he a boyfriend?

SHE is my second cousin from backward Northern Australia and Mom doesn't even remember her name. why would northern Australia be backwards? We don't know where she's from yet.

"Satin, the fact that you've never met her doesn't mean she's a hillbilly. She can be whatever she is, but remember you can always teach her what couscous is." Mom gives me a stupid grin and presses her lips together to smooth the lipstick. It's Shiny Stars, shade 365 Liz Taylor. Mom has worn that shade for over two decades, and I bet that's why my middle name is Elizabeth. I like the lipstick reference. It makes things more real and modern

She grabs the car keys and calls bye. By glancing behind, she spots my asking countenance. The second sentence is a little akward. Either cut the comma or re-write. I'd do it: "She glanced behind and spotted my asking counterance." By the way- what does counterance mean?

"I'm leaving to the airport to pick up the girl. When you wake up, she has arrived." She'll have arrived.

Oh no. How come she's already coming? This had already been decided? And I thought Mom was kind of asking my permission. Why didn't I know anything? 'Kind of' asking permission? I find that a little strange.

This is a conspiracy against me. Everybody knows. But not me. I don't find the 'not' nessesary. And replace the period after knows with a comma

There's a big mirror in the hall. I look somehow pathetic. Kind of narrow. What's kind of narrow? Here I am, a blonde complaining vegetarian vamp Thank ye for explaning this. Please change. whom the whole world is against. A little bit like Barbie. But Barbies can't complain, they've got their Kens and pink campers and their life is smiling like a newly chosen beauty queen. Other then the little 'vamp' thing I love this paragraph.

And besides, they always have a jacuzzi or a tennis field or at least an ice-cream machine on the roof of the camper. And everything's pink. This is a tie-in to the paragraph above, no? If so, keep all Barbie refernces in one place please.

I'm wearing Miss Sixties and a yellow tank top. It doesn't have the washing instructions in the back. I cut them off with Mom's nail scissors as they were constantly itching my neck.

Now I almost wish I hadn't done that. I'm irritated, and I'd rather be irritated about an itching neck than the fact that I'm supposed to babysit a second cousin who wears her hair in two braids and whose name is completely forgettable and who has never visited a Louis Vuitton store. Not that I had - those bags are so ugly - but there's no doubt of that she is a total country-girl.

I wonder what her name is. What could be a suitable name for a peasant? Maybe... Victoria-Josephine?

Ha ha ha.

Ugh. I shake my head and my hair hits me in the face. I don't want to think about her. I stand up quickly, it gets black in my eyes. Semicolon instead of a comma. And the phrasing it a tad fuzzy. Perhaps: My vision goes black? I feel dizzy and sit down again. Then I stand up slowly and make my way to the kitchen cupboard. Usually I watch pretty closely what I put into my mouth, but when I see the yummy chocolate cookies - the ones with the picture of a sailing boat - i just have to snatch one. Better to make the best of the time what's (that's?) left before SHE arrives in Melbourne.

It's all Velvet's fault. Velvet is my big sister who left home to be an exchange student in France, or at least that's what she had skilfully staged. If you wanted to show she was really annoyed (my opinion here) you could cut the 'is my' and put a comma after Velvet. I think she is really in France, but as a dancer in the Moulin Rouge, or then she's railing around Europe, which she definitely should not be doing. If she hadn't gone, Mom had never tried to get me some "company". Speech quotation marks

Boring. The house is boring because there's no one else here. Although I don't really long for HER coming over and start making noise. It's quiet. I grab the phone. The dialogue below makes me think the phone rang. Did it?

"Hey, I was startin' to worry 'cause you didn't call me!"

"Hi, Misty", I say, somewhat exhaustedly.

"Listen, you know that cafe 'round the corner? Carambola or whatsit?"

"Carambar."

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Listen, there's this super cute guy workin' there. Let's go there for a couple of cakes so we can check him out. Cathy said he's not taken."

"Seriously, Mis. Are you really going after some pie boy? He must be at least twenty. And besides, you can't really trust Cathy, can you?"

"Whatever, but he can't be twenty. Maybe eighteen."

"Still."

"Whatever. But Cathy knows these things, you know?" Cathy? Who is she?

"I bet she's been with that guy herself and now they've split up."

"Doubt that. But you're comin', right? Meet me at seven?"

"Well, in fact... I can't actually come now. My second cousin is coming from somewhere north and I have to wait for her. She's some hillbilly."

"Oh no. Can I come over and check her out some day?"

"Do you really want to?"

"Yeah. Well, OK, I'm going with JK, then. Bye." JK again? Who is he/she?

"Bye."

Oh, gee. I don't want to show off my second cousin. Especially not for Misty. To Misty, perhaps? I don't want anybody to know that I have that kind of relatives. I'm already ashamed of her though I've never even seen her. But now that's going to change. I mean the fact that I've never met her. I'd put the 'I mean' at the end of the sentence. Even though I wouldn't want to. I mean, to meet her. See previouse comment.

You can't really notice that my mind is reeling, can you? Nice. Gives a big insite to Satin's character. Sarcastic with the best of them. Mind you, breaking the fourth wall like this can pull readers out of the story.

There's one thing for sure. I'm going to be the nastiest I can toward her. Maybe then she'll go away. That's how it goes. I won't greet her, I won't show her around, I won't even try to make her comfortable and tadah! By the morning she's gone. What an ingenious plan. She may go to be the pain in some other almost-relative's neck.

"Yeah", I tell my purple pillow. "Yeah." The second 'yeah' feels redundant. Either put something with it or put it on the chopping block.

The pillow doesn't make a sound, but I can almost sense its answer. It promises to enter instead of space.
help me in everything, the loyal pillow darling. My loyal pillow darling? But I've made it myself, so that's how it's supposed to be. It obeys only me and not any second cousins. That's how it goes.

I can hear the slam of a car door. Is it ours? Or maybe it's Mr Coldron's. He comes home from work around this time.

But when the key starts to make noise in the door lock, I don't think of Mr Coldron anymore. I look at my pillow, give it a nod and jump up to switch the lights off. I curl under my blanket and feel the cool, satin surface of the pillow on my feet.

I don't hear any faked oh-how-beautiful gasps. Actually I don't hear anything until the knock on my door. I keep my eyes tightly shut although I'm dying of curiosity. 'Tightly' makes me think she's scrunching them, something that's noticable.

"Oh", Mom says softly. "Satin's already asleep."

My Mom is the only person in the whole world who's able to believe that someone over six goes to sleep before seven.

"Well, you'll meet each other in the morning, then. Fun, isn't it?"

SHE doesn't say anything. She's having a pause in which you can nod and smile politely.

They close the door. I randomly whisper good night and frantically wonder what Victoria-Josephine looks like. Frantically feels out of place.

The pillow's not cold anymore.

I like the pov character; she's somebody I can relate to. You have done a beautiful job of capturing the feelings of a teenage girl who is about to have her second cousin forced upon her for the summer. The prose is above average for sure, and other then the "vamp" thing and the mention of one unexplained character, I can understand this.

i really love satin's personality. all the little things you add in, such as how the tag is cut off of her shirt, is really nice. it just gives us this insight into her personality. perhaps my favorite part was the lipstick line. it just gives me this photograph of what satin's mom looks like.

now to read more :]

Good start for the story. Like it has already been said, try not to use the word I all the time. Good fluid use of English, but you have to give more of the story. I think you use too much of the beginning just telling of how much the main character is bored and hates HER coming there, try to drive the story forward, since it feels stagnant. You did otherwise very well, and the dialogue was excellent, but we don't need to read four paragraphs just to get the idea, do we Nonetheless a good start.

Joten jatka kirjoittamista ja plz arvostele mun tarinoita, ne on yhtä tyhjiä kuin springfieldin kirjasto...

Greetings to you, my fine-feathered friend,
I will be reviewing your piece, “Bubbling,” today, and, hopefully, reviewing it well.
So without further adieu….

Overall, I enjoyed what you wrote, but there are some things I would change. First and foremost among them is the opening. If you ask me, its best to show your character’s good qualities, (the ones that make them likable and fun to read about), rather the lesser qualities, (the ones make that make them realistic and human, such as whining and ranting), in the beginning. A character’s likeableness is what draws the reader in, the unlikableness is what develops her.
However, I will say, the thing I like about the opening is that it starts with the character. That’s the most important thing. A lot of writers start with a description of the setting, or something mysterious happening somewhere, or a love scene between people we don’t even know yet. This usually doesn’t work out very well. As all writers know, characters are the most important thing, so it’s good that you started out your story with the right focus. I would just focus more on a different side of your character.
Speaking of that side, you did do a good job with that, later on. While she still rants a lot, she also shows wittiness, headstrongness, and, generally, a whole of personality, which makes for some excellent character development. The part about the pillow is very clever; it made me laugh out loud (for real)!
As for everything else, well, I can say with absolute sureness that the grammar is perfect. I didn’t notice a single mistake. And the prose impressed me; it felt like it was flowing straight out of the protagonist’s mouth. You have a nice style. The only other thing I didn't like was that, in a very vague way, some of the dialogue coming from Mom sounded kindof… awkward. Sorry I can’t specify more, that’s just the feeling I got from it. Especially in the beginning.
But, overall, I must say, it is very well done. It’s a very normal story... I usually go for something more surreal... but it was still fascinating! The character is the center of the story, and thats why its so good... I can’t wait to read more about her!

Sincerely,
Mr. Realms