Fine, just Fine

Hiding things was what I did best. I always played hide and go seek when I was little, and never failed to conquer the seeker. I always hid myself so well as a kid, and as I got older, I took on the same habit, just in a different way.
Hide and go seek was always my favorite game. It gave me a chance to hide alone in a room with no one around, with the building anticipation of the seeker(who was usually my dad) coming around the corner to find me. I loved it when he would pick me up and twirl me around, then kiss me on the cheek as I giggled. That was my favorite pass time with my daddy.
I was definitely a daddy’s little princess. We did everything together. I loved playing games with him, and loved when he would take me places. Since my mommy was never around, and my dad had custody of me, I was always with him, till the day he died.
I will never forget that day that he died. I remember it as if it was yesterday(even though it wasn’t that long ago) I was a fragile eight year old girl, and the thought of losing my dad made my heart drop. I was terrified of becoming an orphan. I never wanted to lose my daddy, and the mere image of me without him made me shudder.
I answered the door confidently, as I did any other time, expecting a big hug momentarily. As I opened the door as wide as I could and, like clockwork, outstretched my arms, My arms dropped quickly as I saw a man standing in my daddy’s place. I was unsure what to say, but before I could utter a word he placed in my hands my daddy’s watch, and his wedding ring.
“Is this your father’s” The man had asked me

“Yes, I struggled to answer.

The man outstretched his arms as if he wanted to give me a hug, I refused at first, then tears began to fall involuntarily. I had realized just then, that my daddy was never coming home.


I had to live with this reality as I grew older, and things began to make way into my life. At the age of eight, I was fostered in with my aunt thankfully, And began to live with her, as she took over the motherly figure in my life that I never had. Regardless of her gracious hospitality, I missed my daddy. But now, at the age of 17, I decided to continue on with my life as much as I could.


I pursed my lips into the mirror, as I applied lip-gloss that morning. It was going to be a great day, so I thought, till I looked at the calendar. January 17. The anniversary of my father’s death. I looked back into the mirror, took one deep breath, and continued to get ready for school. I strung my hair up into a high-rise pony tail, and applied my facial mask, that should keep me fine for the day. I grabbed for my eye-liner which was on the edge of my dresser. The moment I reached for it, it rolled to the floor, and I bent over slowly to pick it up, remembering today’s date. I fell to the floor, keeling over in tears. As I pulled myself back together, I realized I forgot the other half of my “mask” I wiped the tears out of my eyes, and carefully applied my eyeliner. When I applied the last few pieces of my mask I knew I was going to be okay. The tears disappeared, I took one last deep breath, then headed down the stairs. With my lip gloss to hide my wavering lips, and my eye liner to hide my watery eyes I was fine. Perfect. I gave myself one last wink in my rear view mirror, just another reassurance I would be fine. Perfect.
As I pulled in to my parking space after a long day at school , I sighed yet again, and walked into the door, the keys shaking in my hand. I waltzed in, trembling. The moment I stepped in the door, I crashed to the floor, landing on my knees in utter fear. The tears I have been disguising all day fell down my cheeks into my lap. My mask had finally worn off, for the day. I slowly marched upstairs, into my bedroom, where I will hide for the rest of the night.
Hiding was a quality of mine, I had kept ever since I was small. The only difference between this game, and the games of hide and go seek I used to play as a child was, now, I knew no one would ever find me. I swear, behind the mask of makeup, I am as I appear. Fine, Just Fine.

Great story on a sensitive issue. I usually don't like emotional stories but yours has a nice balance, just enough without making it an over-the-top sobfest.

There are a few places where you have capitals in strange places, such as the last sentence, but it's not major. Moreover,

“Is this your father’s#FF0000 ">?” #FF0000 ">the man had asked me#FF0000 ">.

“Yes,#FF0000 ">" I struggled to answer.

I think you could elaborate a bit on how the father died so that it's not such a mystery. You gave a few clues (the man with the watch and ring), but perhaps you forgot to clarify what was going on? A police officer?
Overall, good story, keep it up.

Very well written.

It wasn't too emotional, neither too comical and insensitive.

Like MRDR said, there's a great balance.

I also wonder if we can learn more about the Father, the Mother and the Aunt.

They all seem uncharacterised.
It seems unrealistic that the Aunt will ignore the girl, but was a good foster parent at the same time.

So yes, make the secondary characters as real as the girl.

I liked it, very well written. Great job

Hey, I'm Izzy. Just giving you a quick review :]

Hiding things was what I did best.

I like this first line a lot, it drew me in.

I always played hide and go seek when I was little, and never failed to conquer the seeker.

I don't think conquer the seeker is the right wording. When you play hide and seek you don't "conquer" the seeker, it makes it sound like you killed the seeker or something aggressive. You character seems passive, seeing as she likes hiding things and herself.

I always hid myself so well as a kid, and as I got older, I took on the same habit, just in a different way.

This almost sounds like she hid herself so well as a kid, as in her personality. It sound to abstract to be saying that she's good at hide and seek. I would take out this sentence or expand on it.

Hide and go seek was always my favorite game.

You don't need this, you've already emphasized enough that hide and seek was one of her favorite games. Just take this out or make it less repetitive in the previous texts.

That was my favorite pass time with my daddy.

She's 17, I'm not sure if using daddy is as appropriate but then again I can see where you want to tie this in with "Daddy's little girl" kind of thing.

I was definitely a daddy’s little princess.

So what your doing is classing her as a stereo-type here. Now this is fine, but I don't think your character is that spoilt little brat associated with a "daddy's little girl" I think she was just very close to her dad, he was a best friend as well as a parent, that sort of thing.

Since my mommy was never around

I would take out Mommy and replace it with Mom, she's 17 and you can't play of the same thing as "daddy" since she obviously isn't close with her mom.

and my dad had custody of me, I was always with him, till the day he died.

Okay, that was a bit of a bombshell. Ouch. If I was you I'd put it a little more graciously than that, but that's optional.

I will never forget that day that he died. I remember it as if it was yesterday(even though it wasn’t that long ago)

This is very cliche. "I remember it as if it was yesterday", try to steer away from lines like this. They don't read well and make stories like this that are suppose to sound heart felt, tacky.

I was terrified of becoming an orphan. I never wanted to lose my daddy, and the mere image of me without him made me shudder.

Okay, I'm liking this. The fact that even before he dies she was scared of losing him. I would play of the hide and seek thing. Your main character was scared that one day she will be hiding and that she'll never be found, that kind of thing.

I answered the door confidently, as I did any other time, expecting a big hug momentarily.

This seems a little peculiar to me, because it wouldn't always be her Dad at the door.

I was unsure what to say, but before I could utter a word he placed in my hands my daddy’s watch, and his wedding ring.

You need some description here, what does the man look like? Your saying she remembered it so clearly, surely she would have memorized the man that broke the news to here.

“Is this your father’s” The man had asked me

“Yes, I struggled to answer.

A man wouldn't show a little girl her dad's possessions, showing her that he was dead. He would ask to come in, or bring a social worker round, call the police. And who was he by the way? Expand.

The man outstretched his arms as if he wanted to give me a hug,

Not "as if", if did want to give her a hug.

I had to live with this reality as I grew older, and things began to make way into my life. At the age of eight, I was fostered in with my aunt thankfully, And began to live with her, as she took over the motherly figure in my life that I never had. Regardless of her gracious hospitality, I missed my daddy. But now, at the age of 17, I decided to continue on with my life as much as I could.

This is a very big chunk of her life, her being fostered, her grieving he father. You do need to expand on this a lot. What did it feel like to loose her father, describe the pain. Really make us feel what she's feeling, cause at the moment she's not feeling a lot.

As I pulled in to my parking space after a long day at school

Ahh, what happened to the day! You don't need to add in a lot about her day at school, but I think you need a little bit. Even if it's just a few sentences. Just something about how she kepty telling herself she felt fine throughout the day, like when they started talking about death in assembly, or fathers day...something along those lines.
You get the idea.

I waltzed in, trembling.

Contradiction in itself.

in utter fear

Why is she scared?

I slowly marched upstairs, into my bedroom, where I will hide for the rest of the night.

You have some tense confusion in this sentence, where you change from past to the present.

Hiding was a quality of mine, I had kept ever since I was small.

We already know this.

The only difference between this game, and the games of hide and go seek I used to play as a child was, now, I knew no one would ever find me. I swear, behind the mask of makeup, I am as I appear. Fine, Just Fine.

[/quote]

I like the ending, a lot actually.

Sorry I was such a nitpick.

Realism
This story had some points where it wasn't very realistic at all. You didn't even say how her father died. Also I noticed you seem to miss out on the small details that make things realistic, like what happened between her father dying and her aunt picking her up. How did she survive through 9 birthdays of this sadness? And her mother, even if she 'wasn't around anymore' she would still have been contacted if her child was orphaned.
I just think you need to fill in the small information gaps in this story. If you do this, I would try to Show it not Tell it.

Description
We don't have any description in the first section of this story where there is a lot of room for some. What does she even look like? What about her father? What about the places she used to hide in? At the moment this story is a little 2D, we have all the words but it's hard to get a picture in your head of what's happening due to lack of description.

Emotion
I think you only scratched the surface in the first section of this. The love and lose of an orphaned child is so great, it can make one of saddest reads. I think you need to empahsize on her pain, loneliness. The second half I really liked. The whole idea of the "mask" thing was fantastic, being both emotional and physically.


Looking forward to reading the next chapter,

Izzy