Luna 2

2
My heart hammered against my ribcage, trying desperately to rip out of my chest. “It was just a dream.” I mumbled, resting my head on my knees in the cruel, new daylight. I was lying to myself, and I knew it. Being a dream didn’t make it any less real. I really was abandoned on my birthday, an exceptionally chilly August 20th. Of course she hadn’t really hurt me, but not having a mother still causes a great amount of anguish in my life.
As I lay back down, the harsh red light from my alarm clock beamed the ungodly hour of 5:45 A.M. I closed my eyes, feeling myself slowly fall back into oblivion. I turned over snuggling into my massive down pillow and sighed contentedly.
“Asha! Asha! Are you alright!?” He ran into my door leaving a body shaped dent in it. “Damn door.” He grumbled, yanking it open, his long brown hair tangled and his pajamas wrinkled.
“My door,” I groaned. “Yes, Sam. Everything’s fine. It was just a nightmare.” I mumbled, throwing a pillow at his head. “How am I ever going to leave you if I don’t get enough sleep?”
His lip trembled, one solitary tear falling onto his plump cheek. “I don’t want you to leave me.” He whispered dejectedly.
“Oh, Dad. I need to get away from here. You’ve protected me from all the bad things in life for too long. I have to see the world, and without you always peeking over my shoulder. Remember what you told me?”
“I said ‘Asha, you need to go explore the islands before it’s too late, and staying home with me will not help you in anyway.’ I know what I said, but I…I think I was wrong to send your brother away and try to send you away too. I thought it would be easier to let you go since you weren’t really my children. You’re almost 16 now and we’ve lived together for a measly 10 years, but I don’t think I can be without both of you for the rest of forever. I just don’t know.”
“Sam, we both know that I have to go. I won’t be happy if I stay here. I’ll learn to hate you , and I really don’t want that. I want to love you forever. I’ll come back and visit you even if Aiden won’t.” I said twirling my heart-shaped necklace in between my fingers. “And who knows, I might even find my mom.”
“You won’t come back. You’ll be hanging out with Aiden, and you won’t even think about your old man.”
“Yeah? Since when is 31 an old man?” I asked trying to lighten the mood.
“Okay, okay. I just don’t want you to be unhappy. So get up, get ready for the day, and start packing ‘cause on Monday - your 16th birthday - I’m shipping you off to Mara whether you like it or not.”
“That’s the Sam I know. I don’t know who that confused, crying man was that just came in my room , but I didn’t like him. He was a total baby.” I teased pushing him in the chest.
“Don’t women like sensitive men?” He asked in mock horror.
“You must have been misinformed daddy dearest. It’s all about bad boys nowadays. I need to get dressed, and you need to leave.” I said pushing him out of my demolished door. “I would appreciate it if my door got fixed!” I shouted down the hall.
I grabbed some clothes and hopped in the shower. The scorching water pulsed on my back and cascaded down my mocha skin. As I washed my hair I thought about what my options in this situation were. I could either kick and scream and make Sam make me stay here and end up being angry with myself for not leaving when I had the chance, or I could just go with the plan and not think about the fact that Sam would be lonely without me. I decided to go with the second even though it was selfish.
I hopped out of the shower and ran into the kitchen, my wet feet slapping the tile. The sound echoing off the walls made me feel lonelier than I ever before.
Being away from Sam shouldn’t have made me depressed, but he was the only person, besides Aiden, that loved me. Being in and out of foster care made me build up walls against people that claimed they loved me. When Sam took us in permanently, those walls came tumbling down. I learned to let people into my heart again.
I grabbed the ingredients to make omelets, and began meticulously chopping the vegetables. I lightly tapped an egg on the edge of the counter and looked for the hole in the shell. When I only saw a crack, I tapped it a little harder, and still got no hole. I exasperatedly sighed and started bashing it against the top of the counter. The unusually thick shell split under my splayed fingers, and I grimaced as a brownish colored goo coated my hand and started to slowly trickle down my arm. That’s when I smelled it. The putrid smell of fecal matter set my gag reflex into action. I was grateful that I hadn’t eaten otherwise there would have been colorful chunks and tangy smelling liquid decorating the counters and floor.
I quickly snatched a dish towel from off the counter, and I covered my nose and mouth with it. The small bristles on the towel tickled my nose and I sneezed. I doubled over with laughter while trying not to get any of the snot from the towel in my mouth.
“Oh my gosh! This is disgusting on so many levels!” I giggled.
“Hey Asha, are- whoa! What is that smell!?” Sam asked fanning the air in front of his face. He leaned toward me and sniffed. “That’s you! Why do you reek? I thought you got in the shower?’
“I was trying to make breakfast, and the egg wouldn’t crack. As you know, patience isn’t my strong suit, so I ended up bashing the egg on the counter. It got all over and now everything smells horrible. So what were you saying before you smelled this?” I asked pointing to the gunk still dripping off my arm.
“Let’s just go to the living room.” He said trying not to breath.
We walked into the living room, and as soon as I was through I ripped the towel from my face, wiped the gunk off my arm, and shoved the towel into the crack under the door.

Hey!!!!

Great job! There's just a few things I'd like to point out.

Being a dream didn’t make it any less real.

I had to read this twice to get what you were saying. It's not that you said it wrong, it's just that it was a little confusing combined with the sentence before. For a second I thought that you meant Asha was the dream. Maybe it's just me....

“Yeah? Since when is 23 an old man?” I asked trying to lighten the mood.

Wouldn't that mean that Sam was 13 when Asha and her brother came to live with him? Isn't that a little too young for a foster parent?

Um, I didn't really think that you described Sam well enough. I know that he's concerned for Asha, but other than that, I basically know nothing. Could you make him a little more detailed?

Otherwise, great job! PM me when you get out with the next chapter!

zOe

Thank you for the PM.

There is not really much I can criticize here. You did a very good job.

I agree with bludragon that the ages are kind of confusing here. You are not seriously telling me that he was thirteen when he took them in? And I highly doubt that a 16-year-old would call a 23-year-old dad. Similar things might work in "Twilight" but not normally.

Otherwise I think the part where Sam breaks the door is very odd. Is the door so instable that it will give in to someone running against it? Or is Sam incredibly strong. If either is the case you should indicate it further. Especially if Sams strenght is the cause.

I hope this helps a litte.

Edit: Erased. I double posted by mistake.

Hi, Pink! Here as you requested. =) As of this moment, I haven't read the first chapter, so I hope it's not going to dramatically affect to this review. I'll probably read and review it later, though.

“My door,” I groaned.

Hmm? Is this really necessary – because at least I don't see the point behind it? If you want to have this along, you should at least make it a bit clearer.

“Yeah? Since when is 31 an old man?” I asked trying to lighten the mood.

I skimmed the other reviews you had received, and it seems you had him as a 23-year-old at first. Now, what I'd like you to pay close attention to, is the planning of the story and your characters in advance. Of course, many writers get to know their characters better and better along the way, but it's necessary to have the little cornerstones in place when you start to write. Otherwise it'll end up confusing and all over the place, and no one wants this.

“I don’t want you to leave me.” He whispered dejectedly.

“Don’t women like sensitive men?” He asked in mock horror.

So, it seems you're suffering slightly of the same problem than quite many people on here do: the way of using punctuation in dialogue. It's probably a problem that can never be wholly erased from the world, but it can be improved, and I actually wrote an article about it on here. Let me link you to it.

viewarticlebody.php?t=44898

So, there's the article, and I hope you check it out. If you read that and still don't quite get it, you can explore the other articles posted on there, too, all written by YWS members. You might want answers to many questions you've had!

*

A few words about the characters in this story/chapter. I noticed in the beginning that your MC – Asha? – called him first Sam, then Dad. It seemed a bit funny to me, since I myself call my dad always just Dad. I'd feel really weird calling him by his first name, although I know kids who call their parents by their names. Then again, if they do so, they usually don't call them Mom or Dad. So, in my opinion, choose either or and stick to it.

Also, I know they only have a foster parent/kid relationship, but I couldn't help thinking that they were communicating almost flirtatiously? It seemed really odd, not only because they were basically a father and a daughter, but also because he was her foster dad. Well, she had lived with him for quite long, it seems, but I'd imagine I'd had a bit colder relationship with someone if they were only my foster parent. People are different, though, it can't be denied.

So, I didn't say very much this time, but I hope I helped, even a little. If you want anything else reviewed, just post in my thread like you did last time!

See you around,


Demeter
xxx

Sorry it took so long. Here's your review...finally

pinkangel54123 wrote: My heart hammered against my ribcage, trying desperately to rip out of my chest.

It's not literally going to rip out of her chest so I think it would sound better if you said something like, '....hammered against my ribcage; it felt as if it was trying to rip itself out of my chest.'

pinkangel54123 wrote: I hopped out of the shower and ran into the kitchen, my wet feet slapping the tile.

Whoa, naked? Did she put a towel or a robe on?

pinkangel54123 wrote: We walked into the living room, and as soon as I was through I ripped the towel from my face, wiped the gunk off my arm, and shoved the towel into the crack under the door.

This is kind of a strange place to stop.... Is this like part 1 of 2 or something with this chapter?

It's been awhile since I read Luna 1 so I'm a little shaky on the finer details of this story. But structurally this part was good. I saw very few 'mistakes'.
I still don't really feel for these characters though. It's in first person so I should really know the MC. I think she needs to have more inner thoughts. Tell us more about what she's thinking and feeling in her surroundings. That first part about her being scared was good, but give us more. Was she sweating? Panting? How did she feel about Aiden being gone? How does she feel about Sam? Give more of that inner thought process.
Nice job overall

-Carly