Tatters to Treasure

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Okay, revised, edited, and added to.

Stupid risks make life worth living. - Homer Simpson

Prologue:

Pain, fear, loneliness, separation, sadness, despair. Too many emotions piled up in one person. Just one thing after another, everything going wrong. Poof! As suddenly as a faerie godmother making wishes. Except my wishes got backfired, and everything got worse.

Chapter One:
The train tracks rattled. The train rattled as it flew over the tracks. Outside, trees and dog-walkers and everything rushed past, blending and mixing together into a single blur, and all I could do was watch. I was sitting on an uncomfortable plastic seat made for a four-hour ride. And my neighbors didn't help either. They were a happy couple, rings on their fingers, with a child. She was a toddler, sitting on her mothers’ lap, with bright blue eyes, smiling at everyone. She made happy squeals whenever the train went over a bump; she waved at the right people, and didn’t cry too much. A pretty perfect kid.
Unlike me. If I were even close to perfect, I wouldn’t be on this uncomfortable train, watching a family that could have been just like mine. I could have been the smiling girl, living with both her parents in a happy home.
But I wasn’t. Average height, brown haired, grey-eyed Charlotte. The kid whose parents didn’t want her. The girl who was responsible for their divorce. The kid nobody liked. Yup. That was me.
Suddenly I noticed the train seemed to be slowing, I could see individual raindrops, and I noticed a sign that read

Welcome To Portsville!
A Quaint and Coastal Maine Village

Portsville. What a great name, I thought with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, thinking about why these hypocrites named their small town Portsville. Another passenger had told me that, like, a hundred years ago or something, it was a small town, and so it built a small port next to a cliff. Except when business expanded and people brought in bigger boats, they needed to make another port because the first one was too small. I could see why there were no colleges here; the town obviously had a bad IQ.
I rolled my eyes again as we came to a stop, my meager luggage already rolled out next to me. I shoved out into the aisle, before it got to crammed to get anywhere. I wondered why so many people would come to this little town, but then I remembered. I remembered some might be going to a boarding school, too. Hell, as I like to put it.
I got to the platform, and quickly walked away, toward where a sign pointed “Exit”. My rolling suitcase made a thumping noise behind me, so it took me a minute to notice someone was walking a little behind me. I didn’t like the spotlight, so I pulled my hand through my cropped brown hair, shielding my face from this stranger.
I couldn’t see where I was going, but I knew I was almost at the bus stop; the pounding rain was getting louder every step. I began counting each time I put my foot down, trying to ignore the outsider behind me.
When I had got to fifty-five steps, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore. I was standing behind a glass door. The side I was on was warm and dry; the side I had to cross was cold and wet. Without pausing, I sprinted across the short space from the revolving door to the bus stop. Even so, I was soaked.
I went over to sit in the farthest corner of the bench, thinking about the only two times when the cold and wet was better than the warm and dry. At my parent’s house, and here, this hellhole where I didn’t want to be.
A cough announced the stranger's prescence again. I looked at him, and pinched myself. The boy was my age. Nobody had ever followed me anywhere, unless to make sure I wasn’t sneaking off to do drugs, or something like that. He was looking at me, and I expected to see anger or disdain, the only things people ever had in their eyes when they looked at me. But there was none, only curiosity, and something I wasn’t familiar with… friendliness? This was getting weirder by the second.
I sat; he stood, observing each other. He probably saw some strange girl with short brown hair, pale skin, and large, grey eyes. I saw a strange boy with my length brown hair, tan skin, and expressing, brown eyes. We were almost the same height.
“Umm, hi?” I didn’t know much about manners, but I thought I should greet him, especially if fate pitied me just once.
The boy smiled.
“Hi, you going to Bay Boarding School, too?” He asked cheerfully. I narrowed my eyes.
“How did you know?” I questioned, and then I remembered, just as he said it.
“You have a sticker on your bag.”
I blushed.
“Yeah, sorry. Brain cloud, my supposed mother stuck it on there to try to get me in the school spirit.” I sighed. “Didn’t work.” He grinned, and I found myself grinning back. “Are you going there, too? Maybe there might be at least one sane kid!” He smiled sheepishly, as he nodded.
“I’m Gryffin, but you can call me Gryph.”
“Charlotte.” I beamed. Fate had spared me, after all. “What’s your story?” I continued. “Why’d you get dumped here with a reject like me?” I then remembered my own reason, “Unless you don’t want to tell me, sorry.” I was uneasy. I had been doing great, and I may have just ruined the only friendship I’d ever have. Luckily, he didn’t care.
“I was living with my mother, my dad died before I was born, and we lived in LA. We were getting along fine until she received some flyer about this “special school”, and some gang turned up in our neighborhood. She was worried about safety, except I think mostly her own, wondering if I’d get caught up in it too. So, three days later, here I am.” Gryph wasn’t looking at me anymore, now he was examining the rain outside of the stop. I felt horrible; his story was almost as dismal as mine. And I had told him to say it.
“I’m sorry, Gryph. I shouldn’t have asked you. I don’t like telling my story, either. But I’m gonna tell it to you, so maybe you’ll forget yours.” According to my parents, I was always making people feel bad, I never thought till now that maybe it was true. After my sullen words, Gryffin turned to me.
“Naw, that’s okay, Charlotte. If your story is bad, I don’t want you to have to tell it. Why would you care if you hurt my feelings, anyway?” I was taken aback. I was new at this whole friend thing, and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to get rid of me, or make me feel better.
“Well, um, you told about your life, I should tell mine.” For some reason, I decided to tell the truth to him, which is why I said, “And I don’t want to hurt your feelings, ‘cause you seem pretty nice, not that I would know, but still, and my parents say I make everyone miserable, so I wanted to see if it were true.” I didn’t realize until then, that I had tears in my eyes. Maybe I wouldn’t be in a dreary bus stop if I had just been good enough. The feeling felt like someone ripped my heart right out of my chest.
Gryph looked at me like I was insane. Confusion flashed across his face.
“Why do your parents say that? If my mom said that to my face, I probably would have punched her in the gut.” I had to laugh after that one. I gave a small giggle, but it was something. But then I remembered his question, and my laughing mood vanished.
“They say I caused their divorce, and that I got in the way of everyone. They got rid of me here because neither of them wanted me, but it wouldn’t look cool on their reputations if someone found out they sent me to an orphanage.” I cringed at some hidden memory, than glanced at Gryph. He looked like he wanted to pat my shoulder or something, but instead he just said.
“Well, I don’t think you could be bad enough to cause a divorce, plus you don’t seem horrible enough to make everybody else miserable.” I joking smile lit across his face, and I was suddenly glad that we were going to the same school. He came to sit down on my bench, and we waited in a comfortable silence until the bus came and screeched to a halt.
Chapter Two
I handed the bus driver a twenty, and made my way down the overstuffed aisle to the back of the bus, where there were some poles to hang onto. Luckily, there were only a few people standing back there. Unluckily, one must have eaten a garlic clove and rotten fish for lunch, which I could smell from here. I hoped the ride was short.
Gryph was somewhere near the front, he said he didn’t like standing in buses. I just hoped he didn’t have to sit next to anyone like Mr. Garlic. The thought made me chuckle, and I looked out an open window. I had to admit, it was a pleasant town. There were little cafes, bookshops, and other signs of small town life. I decided that maybe if I hadn’t been dumped here, I might actually like it.
We stopped a few times, once at a small apartment, once at the park, and by now I could smell the coast. I caught glimpses of the sparkling bay through the trees, and my hopes rose a bit, until I got a clear view.
The bay and port was nice enough, but I couldn’t see any sign on the densely wooded island. The bus circled into the port parking lot, and the driver called out,
“Portsville Port! Last stop, exit here!” His voice was loud and raucous, and I exited quickly. The sea wind was a breath of fresh air after standing in a stinky bus for ten minutes. Gryph followed behind me, and whispered a profane word after seeing the tiny island.
“Seems more like a criminal hideout than school grounds…” he grumbled. I had to agree. Up close I could still only see a heavily forested pine jungle. They obviously don’t like to be intruded upon. I thought, but broke off as I heard a piercing voice. We turned from the driftwood wall, and looked back to see another bus.
“Where the heck is the school, Kim? It better not be on that island or I swear to God I’ll die! You know how I hate wildlife!” Gryph and I looked toward the sound, and I saw two figures exit the smaller bus. The sound came from one of the two girls. She was dressed in nice pants, and a black t-shirt. The other girl was pulling her toward the ferry waiting point-towards us.
“Great.” I muttered. Gryph looked at me quizzically.
“What?”
“Blondes.” I knew it was discriminatory, but I had had enough experience with blonde chicks. Gryph seemed to be thinking along the same lines. We stopped talking then, as the two girls came within earshot. I shook my head nervously, making my hair fall in front of my face. Up close, I looked even plainer next to them. Both had what looked like designer pants on, flip-flops, and expensive concert shirts. One of them was tall and scrawny, and she bounced over to us.
“Hi! I’m Kim! Who’re you? Are you going to Bay School, too? This is Forrest. We came from New York…” She was about to say more, but luckily Gryph stepped in before the hyperactive girl could say anymore.
“Yeah, we’re going there, too. I’m Gryph, she’s Charlotte.” His reply was short, and anyone with less energy would have caught the hint. The Forrest girl looked at me, and surprised me by smiling. I pushed back some of my hair, and gave a small smile. Imagine. I thought. A girl named Forrest who doesn’t like trees. It was sort of ironic. Kim was still babbling, but now to Forrest, who talked almost just as much. Luckily the ferry arrived then, breaking up our awkward grouping.
Gryph and I tried to lose ourselves in the ferry, but being very under crowded, it wasn’t possible. Plus this Kim girl followed us everywhere, closely flanked by Forrest. They chattered on and on, but fortunately it wasn’t about crap. They surprised me by talking about very down to earth things, like how both of them hoped there would be a soccer team at the school, and how Kim hoped she could be a marine biologist and save blue whales. Gryph rolled his eyes, and I was glad the boat ride was short.
I concentrated on the lapping waves, nodded absently to Kim’s observations about whales that lived near here, and it was only her silence that surprised me out of my daze. I looked up, and I could almost here Forrest’s voiceless scream. Kim’s face was a mask of horror; Gryph stared blankly into the black water, though I could see his dismal expression. I am sure my eyes nearly popped out of my head.
When the boat turned a slight bit to the left, every passenger on the boat must have seen a paved path, leading up to the school. That’s what shocked me. I had never seen a prison in my life, but Bay Boarding School mirrored how I always pictured it.
In the first glimpse I saw, a prominent feature was the wrought iron gates that bordered the place, almost to the shore. The actual building was a deep gray. Not like kitten fluff gray, or storm cloud gray, but a depressing, cold, gray.
“No wonder they just show the bay on the flyer.” Gryph muttered, breaking the silence.
“And what’s up with the gate thing? Did the architect know he wasn’t making a prison?” Kim questioned. Forrest just moved closer to her blonde friend. A small part of my brain wondered if they were sisters or something. I tried to sound hopeful as I said,
“Well, don’t judge a book by it’s cover, guys. I’m sure it’s perfectly nice inside.” My voice cracked as I tried to sound upbeat. I didn’t succeed.
“Don’t kid yourself, Charlotte.” Gryph snorted. He stood up, and for the first time, addressed Kim and Forrest, too.
“So what are we supposed to do? We can’t actually go there. You three must be crazy! Anybody who built a school to look like a prison shouldn’t be allowed to own a boarding school.” Gryph obviously had had his fair share of crazy people in LA. “We should get out of here, while we still can. They would never allow us to leave without parental consultation. And I don’t know about you two,” he gestured to the blondes, “but we don’t have any parents.” Gryph’s face turned grim at the last word. I frowned.
“Gryph, we don’t have anywhere else to go.” I said pointedly. “As much as I don’t want to live here, it’s true.”
“We’re on the same page then, Gryph and Charlotte. Kim and I come from some overcrowded orphanage in San Diego. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we can’t just up and leave!” Forrest mentioned loudly. “I think we should give it a chance.” Kim frowned, and appeared to side with Gryph. However, I knew deep down that they knew we had to try it, so when the ferry docked, we departed as one.
Chapter Three




I WILL ADD MORE... HOPEFULLY THIS ANSWERS SOME OF YOUR QUESTIONS!
Last edited by shadepelt on Fri Aug 29, 2008 2:54 am, edited 4 times in total.
“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end."
~Samwise Gamgee
Never give up.




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Hiya and welcome to the site!

Is this the complete chapter one? I would assume not since it's very short. I've quoted it and I'm going to change a few things around:

shadepelt wrote:Prologue:

Pain.
Fear.
[s]More pain. [/s]
Separation.
Sadness.
Loneliness.
Too many emotions piled up into one person. Just one thing after another, everything [s]went[/s] going wrong. Poof! [s]Like[/s]As suddenly as a [s]faerie[/s] fairy godmother can grant wishes. Except my wishes went backwards ?, and everything got worse.


Her wishes went backwards? Obviously not having read the whole story I can't say if this is a strange way to put this or if it's true, but it sounds a little odd at the moment.

Chapter One:
The train tracks made rattling noises. Trees whooshed by, people walking dogs passed by, everything seemed to pass me by, and I could only watch.


The first sentence isn't a particularly strong opening. You could maybe even cut it. However, the second sentence needs edited as well, if only the 'people walking dogs passed by' part - it interrupts the flow.

The plastic seat made for an uncomfortable, four-hour ride, and my neighbors didn’t help. They were a happy couple, rings on their fingers, [s]and[/s] with a child. A [s]simple[/s] toddler with bright blue eyes, sitting on [s]the[/s] her mother's lap, [s]that[/s] smiling at everyone. She made happy squeals whenever the train did a particularly big bump; she smiled at the right people, and didn’t cry too much. A pretty perfect kid.


The last section is a bit awkward. This section doesn't read well: 'whenever the train did a particularly big bump'. It's the verb 'to do' that isn't quite working, but I can't think of a way you could reword it. Also, you've already mentioned her smiling - maybe you could cut it out of the sentence before?

Unlike me. If I were even close to perfect, I wouldn’t be on this uncomfortable train, watching a happy family that could have been just like mine. I could have been the kid sitting next to her parents, happily talking about a trip to Grandma’s.


I think this section needs edited slightly because it's a bit too wordy as it is. Then the second sentence is a little confusing. She could have been the kid sitting next to her parents on the train? She just said she wouldn't be on the train, so it contradicts the previous sentence.

But I wasn’t. I was Charlotte. Average height, brown-haired, grey-eyed Charlotte. The kid whose parents didn’t want her. The girl who was responsible for their divorce. The kid nobody liked. [s]The almost seventh grader with no friends. [/s] Yup, that was me.


I can see you were trying to give even more information about the character but I cut out that line because she was rambling!

Overall

There isn't much to comment on just now but I think it's a good beginning. The prologue could use a little work. However, you've managed to convey some information about the main character and her situation, and I liked the comparison with the child on the train.

These are just suggestions, of course, but if you have any questions then feel free to PM me!
Click for critiques :)

Dancing through life down at the Ozdust, if only because dust is what we come to – Wicked the Musical




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An interesting beginning to the story.

But, where is the train taking you?




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Thanks for all your help. Hopeful_Youth, I describe where the train is taking her later in the story, which I edited and added to. Here is the revised beginning.

Stupid risks make life worth living. - Homer Simpson

Prologue:

Pain. Fear. Loneliness. Separation. Sadness. Despair. Too many emotions piled up into one person. Just one thing after another, everything going wrong. Poof! AS suddenly as a faerie godmother making wishes. Except my wishes backfired, and everything got worse.

Chapter One:
The train tracks rattled. Trees and people whooshed by, and I could only watch. The plastic seat made for an uncomfortable, four-hour ride, and my neighbors didn’t help. They were a happy couple, rings on their fingers, with a child. She was a toddler, sitting on her mothers’ lap, with bright blue eyes, smiling at everyone. She made happy squeals whenever the train went over a bump; she waved at the right people, and didn’t cry too much. A pretty perfect kid.
Unlike me. If I were even close to perfect, I wouldn’t be on this uncomfortable train, watching a family that could have been just like mine. I could have been the smiling girl, living with both her parents in a happy home.
But I wasn’t. I was Charlotte. Average height, brown haired, grey-eyed Charlotte. The kid whose parents didn’t want her. The girl who was responsible for their divorce. The kid nobody liked. Yup. That was me.
Suddenly I noticed the train seemed to be slowing, I could see individual raindrops, and I noticed a sign that read

Welcome To Portsville!
A Quaint and Coastal Maine Village

Portsville. What a great name, I thought with sarcasm. I rolled my eyes, thinking about why these hypocrites named their small town Portsville. Another passenger had told me that, like, a hundred years ago or something, it was a small town, and so it built a small port next to a cliff. Except when business expanded and people brought in bigger boats, they needed to make another port because the first one was too small. I could see why there were no colleges here; the town obviously had a bad IQ.
I rolled my eyes again as we came to a stop, my meager luggage already rolled out next to me. I shoved out into the isle, before it got to crammed to get anywhere. I wondered why so many people would come to this little town, but then I remembered. I remembered some might be going to a boarding school, too. Hell, as I like to put it.
I got to the platform, and quickly walked away, toward where a sign pointed “Exit”. My rolling suitcase made a thumping noise behind me, so it took me a minute to notice someone was walking a little behind me. I didn’t like the spotlight, so I pulled my hand through my cropped brown hair, shielding my face from this stranger.
I couldn’t see where I was going, but I knew I was almost at the bus stop; the pounding rain was getting louder every step. I began counting each time I put my foot down, trying to ignore the outsider behind me.
When I had got to fifty-five steps, I knew I couldn’t hide anymore. I was standing behind a glass door. The side I was on was warm and dry; the side I had to cross was cold and wet. Without pausing, I sprinted across the short space from the revolving door to the bus stop. Even so, I was soaked.
I went over to sit in the farthest corner of the bench, thinking about the only two times when the cold and wet was better than the warm and dry. At my parent’s house, and here, this hellhole where I didn’t want to be.
Coughing announced the stranger’s presence again. I looked at him, and pinched myself. The boy was my age. Nobody had ever followed me anywhere, unless to make sure I wasn’t sneaking off to do drugs, or something like that. He was looking at me, and I expected to see anger or disdain, the only things people ever had in their eyes when they looked at me. But there was none, only curiosity, and something I wasn’t familiar with… friendliness? This was getting weirder by the second.
I sat; he stood, observing each other. He probably saw some strange girl with short brown hair, pale skin, and large, grey eyes. I saw a strange boy with my length brown hair, tan skin, and expressing, brown eyes. We were almost the same height.
“Umm, hi?” I didn’t know much about manners, but I thought I should greet him, especially if fate pitied me just once, and he said hi back.
The boy smiled.
“Hi, you going to Bay Boarding School, too?” I narrowed my eyes.
“How did you know?” And then I remembered, just as he said it.
“You have a sticker on your bag.”
I blushed.
“Yeah, sorry. Brain cloud, my supposed mother stuck it on there to try to get me in the school spirit.” I sighed. “Didn’t work.” He grinned, and I found myself grinning back. “Are you going there, too? Maybe there might be at least one sane kid!” He smiled sheepishly, as he nodded.
“I’m Gryffin, but you can call me Gryph.?”
“Charlotte.” I beamed. Fate had spared me, after all. “What’s your story?” I continued. “Why’d you get dumped here with a reject like me?” I then remembered my own reason, “Unless you don’t want to tell me, sorry.” I was uneasy. I had been doing great, and I may have just ruined the only friendship I’d ever have. Luckily, he didn’t care.
“I was living with my mother, my dad died before I was born, and we lived in LA. We were getting along fine until she received some flyer about this “special school”, and some gang turned up in our neighborhood. She was worried about safety, except I think mostly her own, wondering if I’d get caught up in it too. So, three days later, here I am.” Gryph wasn’t looking at me anymore, now he was examining the rain outside of the stop. I felt horrible; his story was almost as dismal as mine. And I had told him to say it.
“I’m sorry, Gryph. I shouldn’t have asked you. I don’t like telling my story, either. But I’m gonna tell it to you, so maybe you’ll forget yours.” According to my parents, I was always making people feel bad, I never thought till now that maybe it was true. After my sullen words, Gryffin turned to me.
“Naw, that’s okay, Charlotte. If your story is bad, I don’t want you to have to tell it. Why would you care if you hurt my feelings, anyway?” I was taken aback. I was new at this whole friend thing, and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to get rid of me, or make me feel better.
“Well, um, you told your life, I should tell mine.” For some reason, I decided to tell the truth to him, which is why I said, “And I don’t want to hurt your feelings, ‘cause you seem pretty nice, not that I would know, but still, and my parents say I make everyone miserable, so I wanted to see if it were true.” I didn’t realize until then, that I had tears in my eyes. Maybe I wouldn’t be in a dreary bus stop if I had just been good enough. The feeling felt like someone ripped my heart right out of my chest.
Gryph looked at me like I was insane. Confusion flashed across his face.
“Why do your parents say that? If my mom said that to my face, I probably would have punched her in the gut.” I had to laugh after that one. I small giggle, but it was something. Then I remembered his question, and my laughing mood vanished.
“They say I caused their divorce, and that I got in the way of everyone. They got rid of me here because neither of them wanted me, but it wouldn’t look cool on their reputations if someone found out they sent me to an orphanage.” I cringed at some hidden memory, than glanced at Gryph. He looked like he wanted to pat my shoulder or something, but instead he just said.
“Well, I don’t think you could be bad enough to cause a divorce, plus you don’t seem like someone who would make everybody else miserable.” I smile lit his face, and I was suddenly glad that we were going to the same school. He came to sit down on my bench, and we waited in a comfortable silence until the bus screeched to a halt.
Chapter Two
“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end."
~Samwise Gamgee
Never give up.




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Okay, firstly, Hi, welcome to YWS.

I get straight to the review. And I'm reviewing your revised edition.

Pain. Fear. Loneliness. Separation. Sadness.

Put 'commas' after each of these words.

Too many emotions piled up into one person

"in one person"

AS suddenly as a faerie godmother making wishes.

"As suddenly as a fairy godmother was making wishes"

Except my wishes backfired

"Except, my wishes got backfired"

The plastic seat made for an uncomfortable, four-hour ride, and my neighbors didn’t help.

This sentence doesn't make any flow. Change it to "I was sitting on an uncomfortable plastic seat made for a four-hour ride. And my neighbours didn't help either."

But I wasn’t. I was Charlotte.

So your character is Charlotte because she is an unhappy girl going an uncomfortable train? If she was a happy one, would her name also chanege? XD. Put her name after her description.

I shoved out into the isle

I was shoved out onto the isle.

Coughing announced the stranger’s presence again.

"A cough announced the stranger's prescence again"

and he said hi back.

"he would say hi back"

“Hi, you going to Bay Boarding School, too?” I narrowed my eyes.
“How did you know?” And then I remembered, just as he said it.
“You have a sticker on your bag.”
I blushed.
“Yeah, sorry. Brain cloud, my supposed mother stuck it on there to try to get me in the school spirit.” I sighed. “Didn’t work.” He grinned, and I found myself grinning back. “Are you going there, too? Maybe there might be at least one sane kid!” He smiled sheepishly, as he nodded.

This dialogue can't be made out that who says these sentences. Please fix it.

“Well, um, you told your life,

"Well, um, you told about your life"

I small giggle, but it was something.

I gave a small giggle, but that was doing something"

Then I remembered his question,

"But then I remembered his question"

I smile lit his face,

"A smile lit on his face"

Good story. But I think it should be in the romantic fiction forum. That is if the boy and girl does fall in love.

So, I hope you continue it.

Good luck. :wink:
Warden: "If you want to lead, all you have to do is ask."
Alistair: "What? Lead? Me? No, no, no. No leading. Bad things happen when I lead. We get lost, people die, and the next thing you know I'm stranded somewhere without any pants."
- Dragon Age

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A couple of things before I begin:

First, title your work. I haven't been critting as much as I usually do, because people on this site have suddenly been against titling their work. I'll bet there are several great pieces of work out there, but no one will ever read them, because they didn't bother to think up a title. Normally, I refuse to check out a work titled "A poem I wrote", or "something i just jotted down", or "a little thing i wrote (PLEASE READ!!!)". But, I like adventure stories, so I thought I would give you a chance.

Second.... this is it? This whole thing could pass as a prologue, maybe. Even then, there isn't enough here to suck a reader into the story. So a girl is riding a train. Why should we care? Why is she on the train? Where is she headed? Why doesn't she have any friends? What is significant about the couple sitting with her? Why don't her parents want her? There are just so many questions that aren't being answered that I just don't care about your main character. Charlotte is boring, and I feel no need to sympathize with her. Expand on this chapter; right now, you have an excerpt.

As for the actual text:

shadepelt wrote:Pain. Fear. More pain. Separation. Sadness. Lonely.


Right off the bat, you have a sentence fluency issue. Everything is fine up until "Lonely", because it doesn't fit. Yes, it's an emotion, but it's in a different form. Change it to "Loneliness", and you should be good to go. Actually...

Too many emotions piled up into one.


This sentence basically sums up what you had before it. Cut some emotions. You for sure don't need "More pain" in there, so cut it.

Just one thing after another, everything went wrong. Poof! Like a faerie godmother. Except my wishes went backwards, and everything got worse.


I don't like how this is worded, but it's a great start. I'm hooked up to this point. The rest of it though.... yuck.


The train tracks made rattling noises. Trees whooshed by, people walking dogs passed by, everything seemed to pass me by, and I could only watch.


BORING! You tell us nothing about the setting here! Improve it with imagery:

"The train rattled as it flew over the tracks. Outside, trees and dog-walkers and everything rushed past, blending and mixing together into a single blur, and all I could do was watch."

Already so much better. Moving on:

The plastic seat made for an uncomfortable, four-hour ride, and my neighbors didn’t help. They were a happy couple, rings on their fingers, and a child. A simple toddler, sitting on the mothers’ lap, with bright blue eyes that smiled at everyone. She made happy squeals whenever the train did a particularly big bump; she smiled at the right people, and didn’t cry too much. A pretty perfect kid.
Unlike me. If I were even close to perfect, I wouldn’t be on this uncomfortable train, watching a happy family that could have been just like mine. I could have been the kid sitting next to her parents, happily talking about a trip to Grandma’s. But I wasn’t. I was Charlotte. Average height, brown hair, grey-eyed Charlotte. The kid whose parents didn’t want her. The girl who was responsible for their divorce. The kid nobody liked. The almost seventh grader with no friends. Yup. That was me.


I like the contrast between the family and Charlotte, but that's about the only thing I like in the rest of this "chapter". No questions are being answered, and it's actually kind of boring, making such a short passage take an eternity to read. Finish the chapter, because I know this isn't the whole thing. Answer the questions that the readers are asking: Where is she going? Where did she come from? Why don't her parents want her? Why does no one like her? Etc, etc.


Also, title the freaking thing already. Make your work stand out by actually having a title.

Keep writing,
kf


PS: If you made revisions, edit the original post so we can see them. I crit a work based on what they initially posted, and if I don't know you made revisions, then I'm just rehashing what you already did.




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Flemzo, added a title, it's not very good, but I wanted to write some more. Also, your questions will be answered in my added parts later.
“I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end."
~Samwise Gamgee
Never give up.



I'm getting nachos~
— BluesClues