Young Writers Society

Life, to me it is the dizzying affect you feel during an altercation with a loved one, It is the feeling of the wind, scratching at your clothing, pulling you away from your goals. It is a Childs eighth birthday, when her own Mother forgets to purchase a cake, it is disappointment, knocking on you’re front door at seven thirty every morning, waking you from a slumber filled with haunted dreams and recollections of missed opportunities; a reminder of your lacking qualities, the bindings that hold you to reality. To me, life is a cruel punishment, in place to satisfy some higher beings fantasies of crying school girls, Dreams torn and discarded, life is but a joke.

It is during times like these, the moments when I can place my feelings, collect my scattered thoughts and piece together the life I lead, the life of a forgotten child, a mysterious lover, a disappointing friend that I resent my Mother the most, when I despise every fibre of her being, It is during times like these that I feel her watching over me, smiling smugly as I stumble through life, living the collection of lies she left trailing behind her, picking up the pieces of the life she shattered with one single blow, recreating the person she moulded to become herself.

My name is Ariana, not that it matters, people never call me by my name. They snarl vulgar nicknames behind me, whisper vindictive lies behind cupped hands. I live the life my Mother moulded for me, Created with her own cruel intentions of gripping me to a life tarnished with her name, holding me to an existence stained with her creation.

I am yet to reach the age of seventeen; I doubt that I will ever see the eighteenth year since my birth. This for me means the beginning of the end; this for me means the end to the pitiless treatment I have withstood since birth, since being conceived by my mother, the daughter of the devil.

My locks, the colour of copper hang wilted around my face, framing the replication of my mother that hangs across me, an instant accusation of her blood running through me, her life flowing throughout my being.

My mind, a place untouched, occupied with memories of the past, incapable of grasping a future. My undoing, without the mind filled with memories of a broken heart I would be but a normal teenage girl, my hormones intense, living life for lust.

I am yet to understand what sets me apart, my Mother, yes a malicious construction but must I carry her gauntlet? Her life is set apart from mine, one canvas angry with destruction mine beside her own, left with remnants of her life yet blank, still awaiting its own story.

This is still an idea in the works... just wondering if i should give it a go or not..thanks everybody

As this is a work in progress, I hope you won't think me too cruel. This reads like notes for something you want to write, not something to in any way be included in your final draft. This is all well and good. The grammar and punctuation are very rough. But again, as I am treating htis as notes, that really doesn't matter. What matters is whether or not you have anything here to work with. The heart of the matter (and of the story to be) is this girl's strugle to understand what sets her apart from the mother she obviously has issues with. The focus is the relationship between them as this girls struggles to find her own identity. This is a great theme for a story, even a novel. What you are doing with this work in progress is to tell the basics for the story. What you need to do from here is show the story. Give scenes where they interact and react to eachother. Show me the mother being controlling, looking over the girl's shoulder. Show Ariana living the life her mother made for her and the struggle to break out of it. These are great notes. I am interested to see where you go from here.

Thanks for that, yeah my spelling is terrible and my grammar is worse... blame bad teaching but other now i've been inspired to write more, i'll post asap.

The first paragraph made me think you were writing an essay at school, then slowly you turn it into a story. Your description is pretty good. I understand what you are describing and see for my self those things.

I like it, go for it shadowdancer!

have you thought about what your going to call it yet?

how about second hand life? nah, just ignore me.

anyway... can't wait for the next part, i want to find out what happens

Have a nice day
bluecows