Alone.

Rough Draft ( very rough, be harsh)

Silent tears fell from my eyes, dripping down onto my shiny new black shoes. I focused on a worm sliding into the dirt instead of the deep, sad voice of the preacher. Some relative must have noticed my head down because I felt a hand on my back; big, like everything else here. There were no other kids at this place. There were only tall, scary adults. All the gravestones were big, and the white marble coffin was as tall as me. Even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to see the person in the coffin without someone having to pick me up.

“ Amen,” the preacher said as they lowered the coffin into the ground. I forced myself not to make a sound as I saw my mother’s grave. She wouldn’t want me to cry about her, she always said she wanted me to be happy. I walked forward carefully, so I wouldn't fall into the grave, and looked for the last time at the person who I loved most.

I tried to remember the last time I saw her. It was three days earlier, when she dropped me off at school. She’d looked happy and normal, like she should. She kissed me on the cheek and said, “Bye Sweetie, I love you.” I laughed because she said this so many times.

The last thing I said to her was, “Don’t forget to pick me up after school!” When she didn’t show up that afternoon, I though she’d forgotten. I ran back to my second grade teacher, crying. She’d made me wait with the after school program for my mom. Finally, around five, my grandmother came to pick me up, crying. Old ladies don't look good when they cry. My Grandma's face was all red and spotty, and she kept sniffling. I wanted to tell her to get a tissue, that's what more always told me to do when my nose was runny. Grandma didn’t tell me until we got back to my house that some mean, evil man had hit Mom with a truck while she was driving to work. Whoever it was, I hated them for killing my mother and forcing me to watch as she was buried, and for making me alone.

Whoever dressed my mom made her look really bad in her coffin. Didn’t someone care that my mom didn't wear makeup? Now her dead face was covered in red lipstick and more stuff that I didn't know the name for. Her dress was completely wrong. She hated black. Hhe thought it was to sad. And she never wore dresses.

Seeing her at last, I couldn’t help it any longer. I let the cries out that I’d been holding in. Some distant relative picked me up and patted my back. I was carried away from my mother, from my only family, from everything I loved.

At the after party, people laughed and drank. Everyone was smiling and looking happy, for the most part, but for what? My mother’s death? Me being orphaned? Didn’t anyone understand that this was supposed to be sad? I can't count how many times my relatives said, "It'll be OK honey," all I knew was that it wasn't okay. My best friend, my only parent, and my mom had died. I ended up huddling in my Mom’s closet, smelling her clothes. She smelled like peaches and cookies. Once her smell was gone, I’d only have memories of her which, would also go away. I was alone in this world.

Oh my gosh. This was really sad and powerful. I mean, it was amazing, but I'm on the verge of tears right now! The perspective of the little innocent girl was perfect, and I just loved this! The emotion was enough to make me want to cry, and trust me, that's not easy!

Amazing job!

This was a really heartfelt piece. I love the way you wrote it but now to point out your mistakes.

Silent tears fell from my eyes, dripping down onto my fancy new black shoes. My whole outfit- black dress, black shoes, and red bow for my hair, had been bought for today and today only. In my opinion, it's a really bad waste of an otherwise pretty dress. I focused on a worm sliding into the dirt instead of the deep, sad sound of the preacher -it'll be better to say 'preacher's voice' rather than only 'preacher'.. Some relative must have noticed my head down because I felt a hand on my back; big, like everything else here. There were no other kids at this place, there were only tall, scary adults. All the gravestones were big, and the white marble coffin was as tall as me. Even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to see the person in the coffin without someone having to pick me up.

" Amen," the preacher said as they lowered the coffin into the ground. I forced myself not to make a sound as I saw my mother's grave. She wouldn't want me to cry about her, she always said she wanted me to be happy. I walked forward carefully, so I wouldn't fall into the grave, and looked for the last time at the person who I loved most.

I tried to remember the last time I saw her. It was three days earlier, when she dropped me off at school. She%u2019d looked happy and normal. She kissed me on the cheek and said, " Bye Sweetie, I love you. no need for the space before the quotation mark.When I though thoughtabout it then, I realised realized that the last thing she said to me was goodbye, and how perfect that was for what happened.

They last thing I said to her was, " Don't forget to pick me up after school" you don't need to put a space after the first quotation mark.When she didn't show up that afternoon, I though she'd forgotten. I ran back to my second grade teacher, crying. She'd made me wait with the after school program for my Mom. Finally, around five, my grandmother came to pick me up, crying. She didn't tell me until we got back to my house that some mean, evil man had hit her with a truck while she was driving to work. Whoever it was, I hated them for killing my mother and forcing me to watch as she was buried, and for making me alone.

Whoever dressed my mom made her look stupid in her coffin. Didn't someone care that my mom didn't wear makeup? Now her pale face was covered in red lipstick and more stuff that I didn't know the name for. Her dress was completely wrong. She hated black, she thought it was to 'to' is to show direction. use 'too' in this context to show exaggeration.sad. And she rarely wore dresses.

Seeing her at last, I couldn't help it any longer. I let the cries out that I'd been holding in. Some distant relative picked me up and patted my back. I was carried away from my mother, from my only family, from everything I loved.

At the after party, People laughed and drank. Everyone was smiling and looking happy, for the most part, but for what? My mother's death? Me being orphaned? Didn't anyone understand that this was supposed to be sad? I can't count how many times my relatives said, " It'll be OK honey," again, no need for the space after the first quotation mark all I knew was that it wasn't ok spell the word out as 'okay'. My best friend, my only parent, and my mom had died I ended up huddling in my Mom's closet, smelling her clothes. She smelled like peaches and cookies. Once her smell was gone, I'd only have memories of her which, would also fade. I was alone in this world.

Happy writing! I hope this helps.

Hi there~ ^^ Octave here.

Anyway, the first thing I want to note about your piece is that your beginning is unbelievably boring. There's no tension in it whatsover, and it's only a good bunch of descriptions. Scenes like these depend on how much the reader is grounded. Of course, with this being the start of the story, we're not grounded at all. We don't know the main character or her mother, so how can we really experience their pain?

Theoretically, actually, you could. But it's very difficult. I suggest staying away from them for now.

Also, your voice is all over the place, as is your characterization. It's not an accurate portrayal of a second-grader, in my opinion. Second-graders are seven years old. They definitely do not sound like this. You have to work on your voice. Listen to how a seven-year-old speaks, and think about how they act. They're not this mature. I actually thought it was a sixteen/seventeen year old speaking until you mentioned the part about the MC being only in second grade.

Finally, younger kids are way hard to pull off in first person, unless you can really recapture the way it felt to be seven. I suggest doing this in third, because the piece probably improve. Writing in first means you have to make us feel your MC's pain, and it's much harder because in this kind of piece, a child won't really be able to verbalize what she's feeling. She won't be too eloquent with it.

Picking an MC of this age puts a lot of constraints on your narrative. You can't put in too much description either (which you accomplished here), because little kids don't notice the same things we do. Kids would probably be more likely to describe whatever caught their eye in a familiar room.

If you decide to go with third person, I suggest you add in more description, by the way. You left your audience blind in here; we have no idea what the environment is like.

Lastly, put more tension into your piece. Regardless of what a piece is about, it needs tension and conflict. Your conflict is that your MC wants her mother, but her mother is dead. (Or at least, I think that's what it is.) Work off your conflict and build tension.

Hope you found this review helpful~ PM me if you have any questions.

Sincerely,

Octave

Hiya, Princess Peach!

So this was extremely sad. D: The tone you wrote with was definitely somber and quiet to reflect the mood. Well done with that! The lack of dialogue was also perfect. It helped a lot to keep that grave atmosphere (no pun intended).

The MC sounded much more mature than her age suggests. Typically, a child will sound innocent and say innocent things. They'll talk about Mommy and why they love her. They'll draw her pictures or giggle. When they're sad, they'll cry. They'll say they love them, but they'll have a hard time analyzing why exactly they love them. So they might reminisce in the memories they had, they'll seek comfort, and they'll probably whine to God/someone that it's not fair, depending. Aaand they won't tell such a detailed story as a story like here. Most details will be after thoughts if present at all. In fact, the MC probably isn't aware that she didn't wear make-up at all. Those are details often over-looked, especially when it comes to moms. What 2nd grader cares about their mom's make-up?

And the last paragraph was more cheerful than I remember funeral dinners to be. Sure, there'll be light-hearted conversations. But it's not going to look like they don't give a care anymore. The mom's death is going to affect more people than the MC. However, if the MC is going to be a child who's going to complain that life isn't fair, then this is a good start. Just build off it. Otherwise, I'm almost offended for the rest of the family that the MC has to take out her frustration on them. xD Dinners after funerals will be quiet. People will still cry. They're going to talk about the deceased person, the fond memories they had of them.

By the end of this piece, I found the MC to be selfish in a not-so-positive way. XD Mainly 'cause I keep getting her confused with a seventeen-year-old rather than seven. But there is potential to make this piece really breath-taking!

Keep writing!

Jabber, the One and Only!

wow. Ok, that was pretty depressing. It was pretty well done however, as it must have been difficult to write from the perspective of a young child. In this respect I was impressed, because not only was it from a young child's perspective, but the writing was sophisticated enough such that we didn't thing a young child wrote it. Whenever you write from the perpective of someone very young the most difficult part is drawing the fine line between sounding like a child, and making people think that a child wrote the piece. You pulled this off quite well. Keep writing!
your friend,
---Psudiname

There were no other kids at this place, there were only tall, scary adults.

This is a run-on sentence. To fix it, the comma after place needs to either be a semicolon or a period.

Even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to see the person in the coffin without someone having to pick me up.

This is a very good sentence. A lot of short stories don't tell the reader the age of the characters, but the way this is written makes it obvious she is young.

She kissed me on the cheek and said, “ bye Sweetie, I love you.”

Bye should be capitalized. There also shouldn't be a space between the quotation mark and bye.

They last thing I said to her was, “ Don’t forget to pick me up after school!”

They should be the.

She’d made me wait with the after school program for my Mom.

Mom shouldn't be capitalized.

I wanted to tell her to get a tissue, that's what more always told me to do when my nose was runny.

This is a run-on sentence. The comma after tissue needs to be a period or a semicolon.

that's what more always told me to do when my nose was runny.

More should be Mom.

She hated black, she thought it was to sad.

This is another run-on sentence. The comma after black needs to be a period or a semicolon.

At the after party, People laughed and drank.

People should be lowercase.

I can't count how many times my relatives said, "It'll be OK honey," all I knew was that it wasn't okay.

The comma after honey should be a period and all should be capitalized.


The one problem you seem to have a lot is avoiding run-on sentences. Instead of putting a period where it belongs, you tend to use commas. One way to caught this is to read it out loud. If you stop completely where a comma is, the comma should be changed to a period or semicolon. A semicolon should only be used when both sentences are related, though. For more help on run-on sentences, a good website to look at is:
http://owl.english.purdue.edu/owl/resource/598/02/

For most of the story, you describe the girl's emotions very well. I felt like I was in the story. There were a few sentences though where you were describing what the girl experienced at school where all you did was tell the readers what occurred. None of the girl's thoughts were shown. Instead of telling, you should show what occurred. An article that would help with showing vs. telling is:
post482410.html?hilit=showing%20vs%20telling#p482410

Overall, the story was well written. It was interesting and had the perfect amount of emotion. For such a hard topic to write about, the story was very good.