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Finding Alana



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Tue Jan 17, 2012 10:01 pm
PurpleNerd87 says...



This is my first story posted...also the one I entered into the SOMIRAC Young Writers Contest...here goes nothing!

I always knew Alana was there. She was never acknowledged or spoken of, but I knew there was one missing. I mean who makes a family of twenty five kids, biological and adopted, and names them with the letters B through Z? There has to be an A. I was at Z, the youngest biological child and Alana was the imaginary older sister I never had. Between us, it was a bunch of boys. You can probably see why I spent so much time thinking about Alana. But it wasn’t until I turned thirteen that I decided to go looking for her.


It was a hot, hazy summer’s day, the day of my thirteenth birthday. I was in the basement, looking at old family pictures. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what I was doing. Yet again, I was looking for any hints of Alana. One picture showed a blond baby with striking blue eyes sitting on a rocking horse. I had seen all my brothers baby pictures thousands of times, Brandon to Yank. I knew for a fact that it wasn’t them on that rocking horse. It was Alana.
“Zaria, time for cake!” yelled my older brother, Julio in his deep, commanding voice. I didn’t want to eat cake. I wanted to find out more about Alana. They could cut the cake without me, for all I cared. They could unwrap all of my presents for me if they liked. I didn’t need presents; I needed proof that I really did have a big sister. So, ignoring Julio’s shouts, I continued digging through all our family treasures.
I must have been in that basement for hours. My legs ached from sitting so long and I had begun to have a really bad headache from the drone of the furnace in the storage room. It seemed like everything around me was telling me to give up. I kept pressing on, even though I was tired of going through pictures of my brothers. It wasn’t until four o’clock that I struck gold.
When I first saw it, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a box; big, sturdy, and brown. To anyone else, it would’ve been an ordinary box. But what made it stand out was just one name, scribbled in green Sharpie on the top. Alana. I could tell it hadn’t been taken out in a while. I coughed and wheezed from the dust as I pulled the box out from where it was wedged. Triumphantly, I pulled the flaps open.
What I found inside that box took my breath away. The box was filled with everything that I could ever hope to see about Alana. There were pictures upon pictures of the same blond haired baby I had seen sitting on the rocking horse. For a moment, I thought the whole box was filled with pictures. Boy was I wrong. The first thing I saw was a baby blanket made of possibly the softest silk that I had ever felt. Stitched into the side was the name “Alana”. There were dozens of miniature outfits and shoes in all different colors. There were bottles and rattles and all kinds of baby toys. This was my final proof. I knew what I had to do. Using all my strength, I lugged the box upstairs.
“Hey mom, look what I found!” I yelled cheerfully, watching my footing on the steps. I looked up, expecting my mom to be happy and overjoyed. Her face was sheet white.


“Zaria, where were you?” her voice sounded worried and angry at the same time.
“Just in the basement,” I reply, as nonchalant as possible.
“Doing what?” I was torn. Should I tell her what I was really doing, or should I lie? Would she be mad at me if I asked about Alana?
“Just looking at pictures,” I started. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mom, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. Did you ever have a baby girl before you had or adopted any of us? It just makes perfect sense that there would be an A missing. And this box is full of pictures and baby clothes and everything. What happened to Alana?”
My mom paused right there and looked at me in that way that only mothers can. It was that why- did- you –have- to- bring –this- up- now- and- why- were- you- snooping- in -the -first place look. “Honey, you know our friends the Hendersons right?”
“Of course,” I say. “Their daughter Kelsea is one of my best friends.”
“Alana was their daughter. When she was a few months old, they gave Alana to us to take care of. Then they left for a year. We had no way to contact them and tell them about their daughter. In that time, she became like our own. At the time, she was the daughter we never had. But then the Hendersons came back a year later to claim her. We were so upset. To always keep her in our hearts, we kept all the wonderful pictures, clothes, and toys.”
“But where is Alana now?” I asked.
“Oh she’s off working somewhere now. She has her own life, it’s best we not disturb it.” I was absolutely heartbroken. I had spent hours digging through to find out that I never had a real sister named Alana. I went to my room and cried. It was the worst birthday I had ever had.

That night I heard a knock on my door. Tentatively, I opened it. Peter was standing at the door, wearing his coat.
“Zaria, we have a birthday surprise for you. Follow me.” I honestly didn’t care what surprise they had for me. All through dinner they tried to cheer me up. Even their corny attempt at singing the “Happy Birthday” song didn’t make me smile. I was sure that whatever they had in store for me was sure to be another fruitless attempt to brighten my birthday.
Nonetheless, I followed Peter down the winding staircase. I could hear wails from downstairs, but I guessed it was just the television or my brothers picking a fight like they always do. Peter led me into the family room, where on the couch lay a baby girl wrapped in a beautiful pink silk blanket. I thought I was dreaming!
“Surprise!” everyone yelled.
“Zaria, we’ve known how much you wanted a sister for months. So I went to the adoption agency and filled out some papers! Looks like you got a new sister! What do you want to name her?” My mom is the only person more excited than I am.
For a second, I wondered why she even asked that question. “Alana,” I said joyously, “Alana!”
My mom hugged me and all my brothers joined in. It felt absolutely amazing thinking about all the things I would do with Alana. Sure, she wasn’t a big sister, but I could be one to her. I would watch her grow and become a wonderful young lady just like me. Sure, I didn’t find her in the way that I expected, but I found Alana nonetheless.
Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be EVER in your favor!
  





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Fri Jan 20, 2012 3:55 pm
sargsauce says...



The beginning was very promising. I was engaged by this family of 26 children and thought it amusing and I wanted to learn more. But then, as soon as she confronted the mother, things got cheesy real fast and it turned into a feel-good, nothing-can-ever-go-wrong Disney movie.

I think it's because we're thrust right into the discovery...then thrust right into the confrontation...then thrust right into the solution. It's the easiest A to B to C ever and there are no hiccups or trials (except that Alana is no longer a part of the family).

So, ignoring Julio’s shouts, I continued digging through all our family treasures.
I must have been in that basement for hours.

They never came down to see what she was up to?

You make use of cliches too much. "sheet white" "struck gold" "hot, hazy summer's day" "striking blue eyes" "[baby on a rocking horse]"
Cut it out.

“Just looking at pictures,” I started. I couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mom, I’ve been thinking

This was the extent of your narrator's hesitation and dilemma. That's it. Nothing more.

The reveal about "what happened to Alana" wasn't nearly as engaging as I had expected it to be. Where's the scandal? The secrets? The shame? The answer to the riddle is...well...boring. And they left for a year...why? Anything scandalous? No? Okay...

She has her own life, it’s best we not disturb it.

You say this, but...really? I think a step mother and step sister should be allowed to say "hi" to her.

I had spent hours digging

Again, you're cheapening the struggle. Hours come and go. Days might have been more compelling, though I suppose it wouldn't make much sense.

I could hear wails from downstairs, but I guessed it was just the television or my brothers picking a fight like they always do.

Baby crying sounds are rather easy to discern. Nothing older than a year sounds quite like a screaming baby.

“Zaria, we’ve known how much you wanted a sister for months. So I went to the adoption agency and filled out some papers! Looks like you got a new sister! What do you want to name her?”

Then the whole resolution is handed to us on a silver platter through no effort of the narrator. It just feels kinda cheap.
  





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Sat Jan 21, 2012 9:53 pm
PurpleNerd87 says...



I don't mind modest correction. But seriously, if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say it.
Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be EVER in your favor!
  





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Sun Jan 22, 2012 5:06 pm
manisha says...



hey!
first of all, love the creativity! the children being named from A-Z, the missing a child, i really love that theme. its out of the box.
maybe a little corrections here and there on th flow of the story-
Yet again, I was looking for any hints of Alana

but before this you say that she doesnt actually start looking for Alana until her 13th birthday. so 'yet again' doesnt actually fit in right?
“Of course,” I say. “Their daughter Kelsea is one of my best friends.”
“Alana was their daughter. When she was a few months old, they gave Alana to us to take care of. Then they left for a year. We had no way to contact them and tell them about their daughter. In that time, she became like our own. At the time, she was the daughter we never had. But then the Hendersons came back a year later to claim her. We were so upset. To always keep her in our hearts, we kept all the wonderful pictures, clothes, and toys.”

just a doubt here, Kelsea(alana's younger sister) is Zaria's best friend then for sure Zaria would have heard about Alana right? and why would a family leave their months old baby girl and not return for a year? you could work on this part of the story telling why alana was given to them to be taken care of..

The ending is acceptable. on the whole i enjoyed the read. congratulations on a good story! but you could tweak the flow of it ! makes it all the better! :)
If Novels are a bucket of imagination, Short story is a bucket of imagination made to fit a mug.
  





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Tue Jan 24, 2012 5:14 am
Sevenity says...



Hello!
I like the premise. It's ridiculous :) 25 kids?

Anyway, with reviews I like to start with cons, so we can end on a good note.

Speaking of "good note", that's my first critique: clichés! Avoid them as much as possible, unless there is no other way to describe whatever it is. Using common adjective + noun pairings for description is fine when the main focus is the description. However, if it's just a moment of clarification, like whether someone has blue eyes or not, dramatic adjectives are unnecessary and distracting. It brings attention away from the action and focuses on the description, which we find out later has very little to do with the theme of the story. If the newborn at the end had the same striking blue eyes, it would have made a nice parallel. Onward!

The deadly look that the mother gives Zaria doesn't correlate with her reaction/explanation. It's just a block of speech with no emotion. It's a bit rushed. The mother just spills out all the details. For what seems like a secret, the mother doesn't seem to care that it has been resurfaced. The presenting of the newborn is rather rushed as well. And has impeccable timing which I find to be unrealistic.

There is no attachment created with the main character, Zaria. We know she's intent on finding this "Alana", but what else? Has this need to find her sister shaped her life, her decisions? Does this search mean she is an ambitious person, or a desperate one? Understanding the characters creates sympathy which creates a bond with the reader.

Pros!

As I said before, nice idea. Kudos.

The beginning was well written (aside from clichés). It is the strong part of this story. It really got me into this search for Alana. Who is Alana? What was she like, where is she now?

In the beginning you describe Zaria's emotions well while she's trying to find Alana.

Your grammar is good. Sentence structure is good. Could use an extra proofread, just for those mistakes that slip by you, but other people catch.

In my opinion, it's a good story that derailed a little at the end. Great ideas are always better to have, anyway. You can always learn to write better, but you can't learn to imagine better.

Good job!
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the fourth, the fifth
the minor fall
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