EDIT I'm going to continue this on the advanced crit. forum. Being a newbie, I didn't realise there was one. So if you want to read more, please head over there.
Also, is there any way I can move this into the advanced crit. forum so it's all together?
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Prologue
I don’t want to write something cheerful, where everyone loves everyone else and they're all perfectly happy. Why? ‘Cause the world’s not like that, so why write that it is? No. I’m going to tell the truth. The real story; the dark, grim, gruesome, ugly, blood-steeped truth. If you don’t like it, well, that’s tough. I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it goes.
If Bree were reading this, she’d say I’m being miserable and cynical, but I’ve learnt, since that night, that my pessimism is realism: it doesn’t do to trust anyone, but maybe this would’ve happened anyway. It was bound to: Fairview Town is not the most accepting of places to say the least.
Fairview’s where I live. It’s a peaceful place. Wide leafy boulevards lined with trees fan out from the main street, where the little white-painted, clapboard shops stand looking rural and quaint by the wide expanse of lawn. When I was younger, I used to watch the ducks on the pond, swimming and ducking beneath the water, searching for bugs below its surface, waggling their ridiculous tails in the air. I used to go to the small general store and buy out-of-date bread to feed them with. But that was long ago.
My house is on one of the boulevards on the outskirts of town, a few streets away from the high school. It’s a large, detached house, all white clapboard like the shops by the green. Inside it’s comfy looking, with mainly modern décor, but lots of “homey” touches, as my mother would put it. The perfect family home - except for the people in it.
Mother is the female pillar of society. Her hair, manicure, make-up, they’re always perfect, always immaculate. She’s perfect. In every way. She attends church regularly, keeps fit, has a good job, is always polite and charming, never shouts, and turns out well-mannered, popular, delightful children. That is, she did, until I came along. In my mother’s eyes, three of her children were perfect: Phil, Mary and C.J.; but not me, never me. Jokingly, they called me the black sheep of the family, but whenever anything went wrong, I always seemed to be the perfect person to blame.
C.J. is the only one of my three siblings I’ve ever felt close to. He’s seventeen, and in his junior year at David F. Peterson High. C.J.’s popular and attractive like the others, and he loves any sport. You name it, he plays it. In that respect, we’re complete opposites. But we click, which is something my mother can never, will never, understand.
C.J. was my best and only friend, not just a big brother. Everything and everyone I had. Until Brianna came.
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Although I live in England, this is set in America, so if you notice any flaws in what I've said with regard to American schools and suchlike (I did try to find out about it before I started but simple things like what ages are in which grades and etc are damn hard to find on the net) please tell me =D
edited 04/07/08. I decided, in the end, to break up that long, descriptive sentence about Fairview. I felt it flowed better in two parts. Any further crit welcome.
