P r o l o g u e _}

This is a prologue to one of my novels that I've... pushed aside. I thought of it today and it fit perfectly with the scenario of the story. I just liked how the beginning sounded, so I decided to post it here(:

I was five years old when I realized I was different. I always knew I wasn’t going to be what my mother wanted me to be, but it wasn’t until she took me to my first ballet recital that I realized it. My mother had an image for me, being her first and only daughter it was mandatory for her to try and make me into what she wanted me to be.

I remember that morning like a nightmare haunting me forever. I woke up really early to be dragged out of bed and into the bath tub by my mom. She washed my hair four times before deciding that it was ‘just perfect’. Everything in my mothers life has to be ‘just perfect’ for her to be satisfied and accept it. After my bath, she placed me in front of her mirror to blow dry my long, black hair. ‘We should dye your hair to a nice, bright color, Marchetta.” From then on I knew she hated how much I resembled my father. After blow drying, she pulled and raked my hair into the perfect bun on top of my small head. My hair was pulled back so tight, it hurt to move my eyebrows. She dressed me in my tutu and buckled me into the car, telling me not to touch my hair.

‘All girls must do a stunt they’ve learned this unit’ my dance instructor informed my class. It was five minutes before the recital started and she was going over our dances again. She said that at the end of the recital, all of us had to run across the stage, leap over the stool in the middle and do a stunt.

I was okay in the beginning… I couldn’t see my mom. As I waited in line at the end, though, I found her staring at me with this ‘that’s my perfect daughter’ face and I quickly thought of who I wanted to be. My mother was controlling me and at such a young age I realized what I had to do. I was going to be myself. I pushed my shoulders back and got ready as it was my turn. My mom had the camera on, bragging about my wonderful performances.

I smiled and started to gallop across stage. I could already hear the muffled laughs of all my classmates around me as I placed my hands up and made my way for the stool, reaching it I galloped over, neighing as I went flying over the stand. I landed and bowed. As I looked at my mother, I could see the astonishment in her eyes, the look of disapproval. From that moment on, I knew that I wasn’t ever going to live up to her ‘just perfect’ standards again.

I was five years old when I realized I was different.

For a first line, this really sucks. It’s flat, clichéd and boring. Sorry, but there it is.

I remember that morning like a nightmare haunting me forever.

Take out the bolded part as it makes the sentence flow better.

I woke up really early to be dragged out of bed and into the bath tub by my mom.

This is worded rather awkwardly. Perhaps you could have something like, My mom woke me up really early, dragged me out of bed and into the bath tub.

She washed my hair four times before deciding that it was ‘just perfect’.

Washing long hair four times? I think that’s a bit over the top, even if you do want to show how obsessed this woman is. Twice would be enough.

Everything in my mothers life has to be ‘just perfect’ for her to be satisfied and accept it.

Mothers = mother’s

‘We should dye your hair to a nice, bright color, Marchetta.” From then on I knew she hated how much I resembled my father.

You start off with single quotes and end with double.

Exactly how does she know that? It’s a huge leap, and considering your M/C is only five years old, I seriously doubt that she would be able to make that judgement. You could mention it later on, say about how her mother kept on going on about changing her hair colour and mention that her father was dark. If you make it more subtle, it gives the reader a chance to figure it out themselves, which is far cooler.

After blow drying, she pulled and raked my hair into the perfect bun on top of my small head.

The = a

I’d take out the word “small” as I don’t think describing oneself in first person like this works very well.

My hair was pulled back so tight, it hurt to move my eyebrows.

Lol, I know that feeling.

She dressed me in my tutu and buckled me into the car, telling me not to touch my hair.

‘All girls must do a stunt they’ve learned this unit’ my dance instructor informed my class.

This is a big transition. Have a line of asterisks or something to mark the change in time and place.

‘All girls must do a stunt they’ve learned this unit’ my dance instructor informed my class.

Comma to close the speech, so: ‘All girls must do a stunt they’ve learned this unit,’ my dance instructor informed the class. (“The” sounds better than “my” here).

I was okay in the beginning… I couldn’t see my mom.

What’s with the ellipsis?


–––––––

Okay.

Well, it was well written, and an enjoyable read, but very improbable. Your character – Marchetta – is five years old, and five year old little girls don’t act like this. They might perhaps stage an act of rebellion, but not a planned one like this. It would be more like a temper tantrum than anything else. You can have mature seven year olds, but five is pushing it.

Doing something like that, getting the class to laugh and everything, it just seems really improbable. No matter how mature Marchetta is, this just invites eye rolls.

Don't get put off by this! Just work out the wrinkles, and get a better title. P r o l o g u e _} is not a catchy title. ^_~