Not our story (5th)

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I never knew if we were real or it was just a dream that stayed with me at night for so long. And now, when I'm sitting in a lonely room guessing if you already left or still in our country I realise it was a reality that looked like a dream because of you, you brought here the sun and now you are about to take it from me. "Don't go, don't leave me here alone" - it sounds in my head constantly, but you don't mention, you have your own plan. You want to have it all! I understand - you are much stronger than me, and don't want to miss those opportunities I've missed in my life, because I was too weak to live my dream. I can't make you stay, but I can sit in silence now, hoping one day the thoughts about you would leave my head. Oh, a message on the phone!...your number....open it...."I'm leaving, will miss you, have a nice summer". Somehow I know you'll never come back, that's why I can't answer, I want to erase you from my memory and life, so need to do it from the very first scene of you in my life.....It was early autumn.


2..It was early autumn and I didn't expect much to happen in this season. I led a calm steady life, which could be described as comfortable. New students that entered in September were quite interesting individuals, wishing to get new friends and experiences more than knowledge. But I always considered it as norm as I graduated four years earlier and was much in their team than in staff's one. I preferred to spend working hours in classroom more than in company of my colleagues, we had much to share with students - they gave me warmth of their souls and I shared my experience with them. It was always fascinating. Through this view of the situation was much mine that that of my students, because they considered me to be strict, communicative and requiring doing homework all the time. Still we enjoyed the company of one another. I was lucky to teach something I really liked in my life - psychology. It's still my passion. This year 2009 I had two new academic groups, so it was difficult to know all the students by name and look.
Anyhow, when you entered the class I felt nothing but incomprehension about how was it possible that some can come into the class long after the educational year started. Later it turned out you had a permission because of your father who was ill and you had to visit him in other country. It was the third year of your study, but I never saw you before as you were not my student before 2009. First weeks you were as any other participant at our classes, but soon I realised I payed to much attention to your personality after working hours.


3. I tried to teach you the best I could, bringing new methods to our class, asking about thing you'd like to learn the most and in which you'd be interested. Having heard stories about teachers who violated the line of teacher-student communication I tried to be a trustee to all my wards but not a friend. And, somehow, no one wished to be my friend except you. I don't know why, was it because of your big life experience in 20, or you just liked me, for no reasons.
Once girls were answering at class on new article, and there came your turn - you didn't stand up, as I let my students to answer sitting, making themselves comfortable, so you started and told some stupidity, everybody started to laugh, even your girl-friends, it was a kind of a good-kind laughing. You stopped and told us you would not continue any more. I started to smile too, a comic situations happen at classes at times. When the hour was over and all the pupils were leaving the class I asked for your excuse, you didn't reply but I could see you were just fine. This is where our relations got a new color.

4. Since that day my life changed, it wasn't change of my thoughts, but of my emotions. I felt a kind of being protected by warmth that came from my heart. I was happy to fall asleep and to wake up, if there occurred any problem I was able to overcome because you were there, always. You never tried to make a step toward me, but in your eyes I could see something that helped me to live.
Now, when you left from my life forever, I think it over and over and don't find the answer to "Why you?". The only thing that comes to my mind is the spiritual identity and social networks that glide through Internet trying to attract as much people as they can.

5. -What are your plans for future? - I asked to my students one day.
-I would like to have my own restaurant and offer exotic food to people,- told Lucie, a young girl of 19 who always worked hard on her lessons and the eyes of whom needed glasses at that young age. I think it's because she liked to read a lot and exlored internet pages too often.
- I wish to have many children and a wife who'd love me more than herself, - answered Erik. Considered to be a successful sportsman he was popular with the girls and after these words almost a good half of the females in the group fell into sweet dreams of being "THAT WIFE".
I was listening to the funny answers of my pupils and trying to understand and remember what was I dreaming of when being the same age as they.
- I wish to leave this stupid country and live my life in other, more developped that would give me possibility to be what I want to be, and without those who tell me what to do all the time, and make me pretend to be someone that I am not,- It wasnt' any surprise to hear those words from Lenon, but it was scary the way someone hates their surrounding.
Later I had understood why did Lenon dissagree with this surrounding. One evening we were talking about our plans for summer on Facebook and he told me that he felt embarrassed every time he was walking in the streets, with all those people staring at him and the way he looks. Freankly speaking I always considered him to be stylish and neat. Nothing to say about his pink shoes that looked very well with grey trousers. I think people around liked it too, because there were many girls who wished to enter his company. Somehow, he felt bad, tired with the pregudices our native country experienced. Lenon was the one who thought that FAR FAR AWAY is like magic, and his native slough is for loosers only. I was confused about such statements but hadn't wright to influence his decisions that were told to me outside classroom where I wasn't his teacher.
Last edited by Fireful on Fri Feb 04, 2011 1:28 pm, edited 4 times in total.




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Hey Fireful! Fahrvergnügen! At first I thought that this was the fourth chapter in a series of installments, but it seems to haven't posted anything else, so I'm going to treat this as the opening scene in your story. Also, if you want more reviews on this, do some reviews of your own around the site-- we work on a "give and you shall receive" basis here. ;)

Overall, I can't tell if you just didn't proofread this and ignored all the grammatical errors, or if you're trying for more of a "stream-of-consciousness" feel. This reads more like a blog post than it does a story-- or some sort of internal monologue. What is actually happening here? Someone (the guy, I presume) is pining after one of his students. They never really had a relationship, though; her presence alone kept him going? So really...nothing happens, per se. And for this to really qualify as a story, something would have to happen-- dialogue, or action, or motion, or character of some point. It's all just a little too vague.

Also, whether or not this was intentional, your grammar needs some sprucing up. I'm going to take a paragraph and show you:

Anyhow, when you entered the class I felt nothing but incomprehension about how was it possible that some can come into the class long after the educational year started. Later it turned out you had a permission because of your father who was ill and you had to visit him in other country. Run on sentence. It was the third year of your study studies, but I never saw you had never seen you before as since you were not my student before 2009. During the First weeks you were as like any other participant at our classes in our class, but soon I realised I payed to much attention to your personality after working hours.


The main thing is that you use run-on sentences a lot, so that eventually it just sounds like a person talking really slowly without ever pausing for a breath. Brush up on your grammar-- I find the best way to do this is just to observe how published authors do it. That is to say, read, and read a lot!

Anyway, I think your story could benefit from some direction-- plot, conflict, characters, dialogue, action, anything. Right now it's all introspection, and frankly it's not very interesting. But I fully believe that you can fix that!

~Evi
"Let's eat, Grandma!" as opposed to "Let's eat Grandma!": punctuation saves lives.




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