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The Effect chapter 4



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Thu Apr 14, 2011 3:46 pm
BerlynnRae says...



Someone shook me, my eyes rolled to the source only to find a too happy soccer mom peering over me.
"Bree, Sweetheart, you need to get up now." She smiled again, her short brown hair falling in her eyes. She turned around and shut my door. I sighed and rolled back over. You would have to buy a crane to get me up.

"Don't make me come back there and get you." She warned through the closed wooden door. I looked up at my ceiling, knowing I couldn't be late again. I already needed to go to attendance school. With the that thought swimming in my head I hoisted myself up and got ready. Snagging a breakfast bar and running out the door.

"I love you Sweetheart!" My mother called from the house. I just waved back, a chunk of the chewy bar in my mouth. I stared at the sidewalk as I turned the corner from my house and to my bus stop. It was oddly located by outlet stores and malls. If I had arrived any earlier Janelle would have. My pocket vibrated, speak of the devil. I looked at my phone, it was in fact Janelle. I glanced down at the text ,"We Have A Crisis On Our Hands." I rolled my eyes. My best was completely love struck, I shook my head. The replied "What Happened?" then returned my phone to my pocket.

I sniffed, the air smelt rusty, dirty, like a campfire. I looked up. I my bus stop was crowded with kids all huddled together and talking among themselves. Beyond the normal scene of my bus stop were a few fire trucks, an ambulance, some cop cars all surrounding a smoking building. I didn't see any fire.

"Maybe they put it out earlier..." I mumbled to myself just my phone vibrated. Knowing it was Janelle and she would tell me in a few moments what it said, I ignored it. I glanced around before crossing the street over to the outlet stores. Janelle waved at me and I jogged over. Scott, an acquaintance, waved at me. I smiled back and all but ignored him as I shuffled over to Janelle.

"Scott's annoying me." I whispered to her as she plucked away on her keyboard. She tole a glance at me.

"Why?" She questioned then returned to her digital demon. I shrugged, looking over her shoulder to see who she was texting. Of course, Kendal.

"I don't know, just is." I sniffed again, "So whats the huge 'crisis' you were talking about?" She looked up at me with a I-already-told-you look.

"Didn't you read my text?" She asked as her phone vibrated again.

"No." I answered flatly.

"Well,"she inhaled, "I said that Kendal is going out of town this weekend."

"And?"

"Well, I was going to plan a party but it looks like he's not going to be there." She answered, deflated.

"Plan it anyway. It shouldn't kill you that he's not going to be there." She turned back to her phone, and continued composing a message.

"I guess you're right." She mumbled.

"Plus I need an excuse to get out of the house, the Soccer Mom is at it again. I might have to babysit another weekend." She nodded, I leaned in closer and whispered, "We can get cinnamon rolls!" She smiled.

"Alright,I'll plan it." She laughed, shaking her head. The sound of heavy gears shifting and exhaust pouring from a huge machine made me look up. Our bus was here. I stopped a few feet from us, we all piled in. Janelle chose a seat near the back and her eyes glued to the monitor of her screen. I glanced out the window as we passed the outlet stores.

"Hey is that the little Asian restaurant?" Janelle looked up at me and I pointed out the window.

"Oh...yeah," She returned to her phone, "It is."

"Aw man, I loved those little noodle things." I pulled my backpack onto my lap and undid the zipper, "So, what happened?"

"Apparently," She said, putting her phone down to look at me square in the eyes. "Joey's cousin Anna said that she saw a car drive into it."

"A car?"

"Yes, a small one. Drunk driver I'm guessing." She picked up her phone and held it. Waiting for another message.

"That's too bad, was anyone hurt?" The bus jolted to a stop.

"Well, Anna said that there was someone in there, but when they went to look there was no one there." Her eye's widened.

"Are you sure Anna knows what she's talking about?" I fished for my Ipod as people in the front mechanically walked off.

"Anna's boyfriend's dad is head of the Fire Department." I stood up and followed the traffic of people inside the building.

"See you Bree!" Janelle yelled waving,"I'm going to look for Kendal."

"Poor boy." I muttered under my breath. Scott tapped me on the shoulder.

"Hey Bree!" He said over enthusiastically.

"Hey Scott," I said glancing over at a girl who was wearing cool footie pajamas. Her hair was short and messy and she looked nervious. "Do you know that girl?"

"Who?"

"That one, over there." I pointed to her. My mother taught me that pointing was rude but I was feeling rebellious today and refused to pick up my jacket.

"No, I don't think I've seen her before." We kept walking, "So Bree, have you been asked to Prom yet?" I stopped. In all truth I hadn't been asked prom, but I did not want to go with Scott. I blurted out the first boy name that came to mind.

"Yeah, Kendal asked me."

"Kendal?" He looked at me confused. "Are you sure? I thought he was going with your friend Janelle."

"Nope." I looked away, back at that strange girl, "He asked me." The overhead bells rang, telling everyone they needed to get to class.

"Want me to walk you to class?" He offered.

"Sure." I shrugged, then I heard three loud bangs. They weren't like someone dropping something huge on the ground. They seemed more like what I've heard on movies and TV shows. Gunshots. I turned around and a boy with a long black jacket and blond hair in his eyes was holding a gun. It reminded me of a squirt gun or something I might have seen on Star Trek. Everywhere people were running and screaming. Scattering like a millions ants. He was coming in our direction. His weapon dangerously close to us.

I ran. Scrambling into a band room with ten other students and a teacher. I glanced around. Where was Scott?

"Okay everyone, stay away from the door. Get low on the ground were turning off the lights." I quickly sat on a chair so I could see out the window. Then the lights went off. The only light came from the window of the door. I heard a few more shots. Something more powerful this time. The lights in the room flickered, then exploded. I covered my head as glass pieces rained from he ceiling. A few people screamed.

"Don't scream." The teacher whispered. "We don't want the shooter to find us." I looked through the window as Scoot and the odd girl I had seen earlier bounded down the hall looking for safety.

"Scott!" I screamed, the teacher jumped up and tried to grab me. I pulled my hand away and opened the door. The shooter was following them. Scott bounded to me as I pulled open the door.

"Hurry! Hurry!" As he scurried into the room. I opened a little more so the girl could get in as well. She joined everyone in the darkness. I shoved the door to close it but it wouldn't go I looked up to see the barrel of the gun pointed right at me.

"Someone help me!" I shouted. Then the there was an abrupt blast.
  





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Thu Apr 14, 2011 9:23 pm
Soulkana says...



Man that was AMAZING!!! I really loved this. Truly a magnificent piece. I hope you continue...I need to read the others to get a better understanding but so far so good. ^^ Best of lucks to you and this story. I hope you get many helpful reviews^^ Best of lucks and Happy Writing!!!!!! Keep up the good work^^
Soulkana<3
May the gentle moon take you into peaceful dreams. May the mighty sun brighten your new days.
  





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Sun May 08, 2011 11:28 am
Gheala says...



Someone shook me, my eyes rolled to the source only to find a too happy soccer mom peering over me.

When I first read this, I asked myself "what source?" before I realized what you meant. You might want to make it "the source of the movement", even though that would sound a little redundant. You could also say, "...opened my eyes to see..." without mentioning any "source". You know what I mean?
"Don't make me come back there and get you." She warned through the closed wooden door.

Put a comma in the end of the quotation, instead of the period. Also, don't use a capital letter after the quotation marks here, because you're explaining what has been said in the quotation itself.

With the that thought swimming in my head I hoisted myself up and got ready. Snagging a breakfast bar and running out the door.

-"...that thought swam...".
-The second phrase there doesn't make sense, because you began it with a gerund and that means that you have something else to say like: "waking up late, I got dressed as fast as I could".

"I love you Sweetheart!" My mother called from the house. I just waved back, a chunk of the chewy bar in my mouth. I stared at the sidewalk as I turned the corner from my house and to my bus stop. It was oddly located by outlet stores and malls. If I had arrived any earlier Janelle would have. My pocket vibrated, speak of the devil. I looked at my phone, it was in fact Janelle.

Have you noticed that your phrases are all very short here? Try to make them slightly longer by merging sentences together.

I glanced down at the text ,"We Have A Crisis On Our Hands." I rolled my eyes. My best was completely love struck, I shook my head. The replied "What Happened?" then returned my phone to my pocket.

-A new paragraph here.
-That paragraph didn't make sense. You said "My best was completely...". But your best what? best friend?
I also think that you need to make the thoughts Italic to make it less confusing for your reader. For instance, you said "My best was completely love struck". Make that italic then say, "I thought and shook my head."

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You need to proofread because there are many structure mistakes here. Pay attention to the short sentences and also to make your MC's thoughts clearer.
Good luck! I liked it and I do hope you write more!
I'm back to my YWS after months of disappearance, hoping that I'd gain the immunity of books and quills against the harmful realism of our world.

In case this made no sense, I'm just saying that I'm happy I'm back!
  








When one is highly alert to language, then nearly everything begs to be a poem.
— James Tate