Young Writers Society

This is kind of the first story I acctually prepared before I wrote it. Anything you think needs fixing, please post!

Main Character: McKayla Wallis

Plot: McKayla has been living in the shadow of her mother’s drinking for as far back as she can
remember. Ever since she was very small, McKayla’s life has been plagued in the shadow of her mother’s incandescent behavior. All through out her life, her mother has stepped in and out, her actions motivated by
her absolute addiction to drinking and the night life. Suddenly, the question arises: Will McKayla’s mother finally give her custody over to her older sister Amanda? A crucial moment arises when McKayla must decide once and for all who she really is.

Location: Just outside New York City

Time: Summer 2001


~A small tear trickles down my face and into my awaiting palm~


~A small tear trickles down my face and into my awaiting palm~

Nothing has gone right today. Nothing. It is raining, the tapping of water against brick breaks the cold silence which has enclose us. We are sitting in the McDonald’s just outside route 67, in the Metropolitan Plaza, waiting for our usual no-show. We are sitting beside the door, directly, so that if she does happen to show up after all, our mother will have no choice but to notice us. The unfortunate thing is that the door also happens to be beside the washrooms. The swinging doors continue to slam back and forth, each passer by getting a good glimpse, each referring to his own implied judgement. I guess you could say it’s not easy to watch me and not so much as glance even once - I’m sixteen. I have only the remnants of cleavage, my hair is neon blue, and yes - the mother of all reasons to judge - seven piercings, and all but one are on my face. And don’t call me a punk.

Amanda is shredding the thin paper off one of those tacky red and yellow straws, staring at thin rivers of salt. A small pile of uneaten food sits between us. I don’t eat it because I’ve watched Super Size Me too many times. Amanda just doesn’t eat anything but very small, un-fulfilling things. Why did she buy all this food? Good question.

The front doors swing open. I half expect that maybe Mom has actually decided to show, but once again, no. So much for that. So much for that. Amanda clears the shredded paper to the side. “Maybe we should just go. I should probably check in on Lucy anyway.” “Let her die. She’s gonna crash soon anyway.” Amanda gasps. “Don’t speak that way about her. She’s your grandmother for god-sake.” I toss the half full container of coke in the trash, “I don’t give a shit who she is.”

Amanda turns to face me.

~The war wages on~

It is without warning that only moments after Amanda has dumped the entire contents of uneaten food in the trash cans, that the doors swing directly open, nearly knocking me in my desperation to get out of here to the floor. Mom is standing in the doorway. Her face is flushed, her hair is a mess. Even if it had not been for the silver flask, it was pretty obvious what was happening here. I fall back into the chair, awaiting the scene. Mom stumbles, knocking over the trash can beside the door. She nearly runs an elderly woman, who cringes and says something thick under her breath. One of the employees some dude in his twenties wearing a visor and matching smock comes over. I can tell he’s trying not laugh. I want to slap him. Try living this way.


“Uh..miss...are you ok? Do you need some help?” Mom looks up at him. “What makes you say that?” Another employee, a fat woman in a hairnet with no smock, has joined the race. “Duncan, I’ll take this. Madame, company policy states that no alcoholic beverages be aloud in the vicinity. Please remove the substance or I will have to call security.” Amanda yanks the flask away from mom. She groans, tries to grab at it again, but misses, slipping. “Come on McKayla we’re leaving. Now.” I’m watching my mother now grabbing onto the side of the upturned trash bins. Duncan has disappeared “We can’t just leave her here.....”
“Fine, stay with her then, what do I care?” My mother stumbles again, pulling down the trash cans. Amanda has gone. Now I’m sick. I think I’m going to puke just from the smell of my mother. Mother’s are supposed to smell nice, like perfume and soap. Not hard rum. This is wrong. This is so wrong.

So you are Makailya Wallis or whatever? Like the main character?
Yeah, it sounds very realistic... For me though, the plot moves too slow... because I like fast things. But otherwise it was pretty good. Does Makaila and Amanda have a grudge against eatch another or Chryl and something? Sorry, i'm half asleep now.

I think the plot is fine. The pace really isn't slow, it's just told in a very detailed form. The descriptions are especially great, the one that really stuck out to me was Amanda shredding the paper off the straw. Probably because that paper will annoy me for eternity.

I can't find anything to correct in your story. The one thing I picked out was just a grammatical error:

It is raining, the tapping of water against brick breaks the cold silence which has enclose us.

It should be either, "which encloses us" or "which has enclosed us"

I really really like this story. I think you should add onto it, definitely. The characters so well-developed that I actually want to read more about them. My favorite line was "And don't call me a punk." Very teenager.

Excellent job - I don't generally read this sort of story, not that I have anything against them, they just don't always hold my interest; however, this kept me reading, and wanting to know more of the characters. The pacing? Perfect. Moves along at just the right pace. Description? Very good. Gives me a clear picture? Piquing my interest? Very good job!