Untitled. Prologue and chapter one.

Okay.. So this isn't true. Well my real best friend is named Brittnie. But she never got shot. But I am guessing the feelings. Well hope you enjoy. Please review thanks!



Prologue.

The day I got the phone call about my best friend I was with two of my other friends at the mall. I had moved to Florida a year before. I answered the phone surprised that Brittnie was calling me. I'm usually the one that has to call her. So I answer it telling my friends Nicole and Dasia to quiet down. And I started crying. Brittnie got shot. Someone killed her. I couldn't believe the words. That the funeral was in a week and Mrs.Holloway (Brittnie's mom) bought me a ticket to fly up.


Brittnie and me met a two years ago. We were all in the same classes. I couldn't imagine my strong, confidence, boy-crazy best friend dead. It was a nightmare that kept playing. So I flew up back to my home town. The quiet sounds of Midville. I knock on the door and Mrs. Holloway answers. I have flowers in my hand. I can't look her in the eye. I started crying and my cousin grasped me in a hug. We both wished Mrs. Holloway best wishes and we walked down to our car.


The next day I was getting ready for the funeral. I wore my best black dress. I couldn't keep the tears shut off for long. As I was doing my make up my tears came running down my face smudging my eyeliner and mascara. I just decided to wipe it off. And the nightmares just begin...


Chapter One.

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!" I started screaming in my sleep. "Don't shoot her! Please! Don't!" I wake up. My bed feels soaked. I am sweating like a pig. I had that awful dream again.


"I have to shot her," the guy says with confidence in his voice.

"Shot me! She doesn't deserve it!!"

"Good-bye miss."

I walked up to the casket and there lays my best friend. My eyes tear up. I look around and notices no one is watching me. I whisper to Brittnie,"I'll find the killer. i promise. And don't worry you're going to go to heaven. I believe with all my heart you will go above not down. I love you. You were always there for me and I will remember all the days we spent together."

I set my flower down and walk back to my seat. I needed my cousin's support. So of course she came. The funeral flashes by, Finally we go back to the hall where every one says things about Brittnie. My heart is pounding. It's my turn and I walk up to the front of the room and I start my speech.

"Brittnie was my best friend. I loved her like she was my sister. I will never forget the times I spent with her. One minute," I take a tissue and blow my nose, "Thank You for waiting. I am so sorry Mrs. Holloway. I will be here for you."

My speech is shorted out by someone shooting me people are yelling and screaming. I just look at the killer and...

The dream haunts my every night. Tomorrow is a year since Brittnie got shot. I just wanted to cry. I look at the clock. Eleven-fifteen. I've had sleeping problems ever since Brittnie died.

I get up to go down stairs to get a glass of milk. I walk down the stairs very quiet. I see my parents asleep on the couch. I go over and cover them up with a blanket then shut off the blasting TV. When I get in the kitchen I hear noises. I look around and found nothing. I turn on the bright light. The light hurts my eyes. I blink several times trying to get use to the light.


The sound of the door on the fridge makes me jump. I grab the milk out and open a cabinet. No cups are in it. The dishwasher I think has clean dishes. When I open the dishwasher door my mom walks out.

"Hunny, you need to get to bed."

"Mom, I'm fine. I'm going to school tomorrow."

"Jessie, are you sure you want to go to school?"

"Yeah. I haven't been in a month. I better go soon or I will have to stay back."

"Tomorrow's Brittnie died exactly a year ago."

"Get some sleep mom. I love you," I say in a whisper. I walk over to her and kiss her on her warm cheek. I give her a soft little hug.

She does a little smile and whispers she loved me back. She walks in the living room to get my dad. And together they go upstairs. I feel tears coming to my eyes. I take my hand and wipe them away. I put the milk back deciding I didn't want a drink. I sit at the wooden kitchen table and look around the room. Our kitchen was yellow and orange. Why does every thing seem so bright?

I get up and go to my room. As I walk up the stairs I feel pains in my sides. My mom told me the doctors say its from stress. I lay in my bed and look up at the ceiling remembering the last phone call Brittnie and I had.

"Brittnie, you don't want a baby. Please don't wait in till your older. For me please."

"Jessie, you don't understand I am ready for a baby."

"Don't don't do this, Britt."

"Well, you're not here to stop me."

"Do you need me to come down?"

"I have to go, Jess."

"Alright. Bye."

"I love you, Jessica Marie. You are my best friend and you know that."

And I remember how I only heard dial tone.

You have some spelling/ grammar errors. And I stink at grammar and spelling, so I'm going to let a better person find those and I'll focus on other stuff.
Just kidding.

jessie2009 wrote:The day I got the phone call about my best friend I was with two of my other friends at the mall. I had moved to Florida a year before. I answered the phone surprised that Brittnie was calling me. I'm usually the one that has to call her. So I answer it telling my friends Nicole and Dasia to quiet down. And I started crying. Brittnie got shot. Someone killed her. I couldn't believe the words. That the funeral was in a week and Mrs.Holloway (Brittnie's mom) bought me a ticket to fly up.

Okay, I know this is a prologue but it sounds a little dry.

The day I got the phone call, the one that changed my life, I was with two of my friends. Shopping.(Eliminate the Florida sentence; it doesn't look good at all.)
I answered the phone, noticing first that it was from Brittney's landline. My pulse quickened as I gaped at the number; Brittany never calls me. I yelp at Nicole and Dasia to pipe down, and quickly answer the phone. It's Brittany's mom, or her cousin, or her aunt but I don't really care because my world has frozen over.
It's a few seconds before the tears come; but even when they do I don't feel. I can't feel. I just muse over the words, chanting like a mantra, my hymn of desperation: Brittney....shot.....hospitilazed....won't last.....funeral. Funeral. Funeral.
The next paragraphs are pretty good. Then:

jessie2009 wrote:As I was doing my make up my tears came running down my face smudging my eyeliner and mascara. I just decided to wipe it off. I looked down and I didn't want people to think I was a slut or anything. And the nightmares just begin...

"I didn't want people to think I was a slut or anything??" Your best friend is dead. You probably don't give sh-- what people think
I just decided to wipe it off. After all, this was all for Brittany, wasn't it? So Brittany could see me mourning her? She wouldn't care if I wore mascara or not. She was my friend on my bad hair days and my good ones. She would understand.

Besides that; it's an engaging story. I don't have any problems with the chapter one. It's a good piece.

HI Jess!!
This is good, really good. A well written piece, why didn't you tell me about it. Well, let's get to the point.
To be honest this had much more feeling than the last one I reviewed; your tenses dind't change, the MC didn't sound so flat and the actions were not listed.
Even though is better, it still has some things that can be improved.

The day I got the phone call about my best friend I was with two of my other friends at the mall. I had moved to Florida a year before. I answered the phone surprised that Brittnie was calling me. I'm usually the one that has to call her. So I answer it telling my friends Nicole and Dasia to quiet down. And I started crying. Brittnie got shot. Someone killed her. I couldn't believe the words. That the funeral was in a week and Mrs.Holloway (Brittnie's mom) bought me a ticket to fly up.

bit more feelings from the MC is neede in this paragraph; something that makes the reader feel the despair that Jessie was feeling and see the scene clearly.
Then, I think parenthesis look wrong in stories. For me, separating explanations with dashes is way better.

So I flew up back to my home town. The quiet sounds of Midville. I knock on the door and Mrs. Holloway answers. I have flowers in my hand. I can't look her in the eye. I started crying and my cousin grasped me in a hug. We both wished Mrs. Holloway best wishes and we walked down to our car.

1. the first two sentences could be made up into one: Example: So I flew back to my home town, the quite picturesque city of midville.
I added another adjective just to show you that the city requires at least on sentence of description.
2. Knock should be knocked.
3.Have should be had.
3. in the next two sentences try asking yourself this questions: why couldn't she look her in the eye? why did she began crying?
4.The cousin part confused me, what did he have to do with the funeral?

The next day I was getting ready for the funeral. I wore my best black dress. I couldn't keep the tears shut off for long

.
Example: As I hard as I tried, I couldn't keep the tears shut off for long, the thought of Brittnie dead was too painful.

I didn't want people to think I was a slut or anything

This is just question: why were they going to think she was a slut?

Please don't wait in till your older.

Your should be you're

"I have to shot her," the guy says with confidence in his voice.

"Shot me! She doesn't deserve it!!"

"Good-bye miss."

In this part you are recalling the dream so I think the two shot verbs should be shoot.

Overall
I liked it, it was very intersting. The phone call part was so sweet and her name is so cute I just picked out a few things that I noticed.
The dream port I think could need a bit more description about how she is feeling in the dream and what is her reaction when she wakes up.

That's all. It was very cool.
XOXO
Pudin

Okay...here is my argument...the story is interesting and you are trying to demonstrate a certain mood to the text by using dialogues as a medium. However...when i read it, i cannot sense the mood (personally) or that what your main character is feeling seems lack and dry.

for example on the dream being metioned, what makes her scared other than the guy who is syaing taht he wants to kills her bestfriend. For her it is but for the reader...we do not know why she is scared. Personally...you need some descriptions in teh story and used metaphors to convey a certain mood. For example when describing the killer's voice, you could say..."his voice was as deep, his face hidden under the shadows with only his mouth being enlighten by a faint light"

as well, you need to show the body language of the character. When you noted when the character met her brother...it would better if you displayed on waht the mother wear or on the reaction or body language of the protangonist. For example, when she woke up from the nightmare you could note on the tears flowing from the cheeks or that she is shivering or she ius losing ehr breathe.

If this work is a draft then it is okay but just try to take note of this. An author must engage the reader through the use of character personality and description. Plot is good but you need to show the personality of the character a bit clearly in order for tehr eader to engage with the character.