Hey every one! I has been forever since I was last on but since it is NaNoWriMo I decided I would participate this year and try to write a novel. But I only have the first page and a half done (which is okay for just two days into nanowrimo) and it is very very raw. Like the site suggests I have just typed it out and fixed some basic errors with it, quantity not quality. Though I would like the story to be decent. So here it is, please give me suggestions and tell me what you think of the story so far. It is just the introduction and very brief and not very well written. So please please help me out fellow writers!So with out further ado, I present Emmanuel:
She said she would love me. She said she would never leave me. But I guess I misinterpreted those words. I guess I took those words thinking that she was promising to love me. Promising to stay with me even though we had told each other that we were just good friends. It was hard to believe that just a few months ago we were making silly jokes to each other over skype or chatting nonchalantly about boys while sitting on my bed, toying with an old stuffed animal‘s ears. But now my feelings has gone a totally different way and the tie to her that I felt had been severed. It had grown and grown ‘till it was as if we were tied at the hip. Then completely broken off because of a few words. I suppose I should have never this invisible tie grow that strong.
Sitting in English class I finished reading the paper I had been writing. It was Friday thank the good lord above and I was ready for the weekend. There was just this English class between myself, and the sweet freedom that the weekend brought. It was a lovely paper about how the small fox stuffed animal that I kept by my bed was my favorite possession but also my dirtiest. It was an awkward paper but the boy that I hated the most, Keith, was in my English class and I wanted to deeply disturb him with gritty details about the private life the existed between me and this stuffed fox. After reading it, it occurred to me that Josh Green was in this class and I had probably wrecked any chance I had ever had with him by reading this paper. As now I would be viewed by the entire class as a freak who slept with a grubby stuffed animal. But it was better to be seen as a freak then a shallow, thought-less, idiot of a girl who spent all the time she could have been doing home work face-booking.
Many people would call me bitter. Striving to disgust the people I hated (which was most of them) and not going out of my way to make new friendships. Who needed more friends when you had already established a perfect little circle of friends that you knew you liked and got along with? My writing was honest and reflected the easy to understand and blunt thoughts that were stored in the dark cavern that was my mind. Being a Junior in high school was not the easiest thing in the world. Each day I had to drag my self out of bed at the painful time of six in the morning, shove some cereal into my mouth and then throw on comfortable clothing and run out the door to catch a bus. Then as soon as I got to school I was surrounded by masses of idiots, Goths, and “emo” children. Granted, I had my moments as well but I knew that I was a Kohlberg level above the rest of my classmates. So being in the awkward phase that was high school there were only a few things of which I was certain. First, Edward was a vampire…just kidding…first off that human kind as a whole were essentially evil. Second was that Mondays were a joke and should just be given to us as another weekend day. And third was that there would never be a pasty controlling greasy vampire as my lab partner. Thank God.
My mind drifted while the other students in the class read their papers. My ears perked up when Emmanuel read hers. It was about a small ring that her mother had given her before leaving for the hospital and never returning. It was a story the was beautiful and sad but did not have a note of self pity in it. This was why I adored her. This was why she was my best friend. She was never overdramatic. We both knew that my father had left and her mother was dead. We did not burst into tears when the subject arose nor did we talk about it much. When Emmanuel and I were younger I would suggest that her father and my mother get married and we could be sisters. She thought that the idea was foolish and would never work out.
“If our parents got married, then we would be sisters.” She said slowly. As if I didn’t understand some thing.
“Yes, wouldn’t that be fun. Just like having a sleepover every day.” I said in wonder.
“But then we would get sick of each other and argue and shout and fight about toys all the time just like those two twins in our class do. I like you as a friend Addison. A best friend. Not a sister.” At the time I thought she was being rude and didn’t like me at all but after talking me through it and making me understand that we would loose the friendship that I help so dear if our parents got married, I understood. She was always logical and knew just what to say to make me feel better and to get the point across to my slightly less logical mind. I had a darker more cynical way of thinking that I preferred to a bright and optimistic one. I had Emmanuel for the optimistic thoughts and funny quirky things to say. I leaned on her like a crutch that I was never willing to give up. And hoped I would never have to.
Many people thought it was a boys name. And I suppose that technically Emmanuel is a “boys” name, but any thing boys can do girls can do better. Emmanuel bore her name better than any boys that attended our school could. The name was angelic and graceful just like her. Addison just seemed clunky and I didn’t like the way it felt in my mouth. We both were not fans of our names though, as a good friend should, we assured each other that the other’s name was lovely. But as a compromise I called her Emmy and she referred to me as Addie. They were childhood nicknames. They rhymed (sort of) and sounded nice when our parents would call us in together. Addie and Emmy. Perfect.
Loved this part.
