Young Writers Society

Anna Trueman sat awkwardly beside me outside Room 239, quietly sobbing.

I glanced at her, feeling her pain and confusion, and tried to remember what we used to be. Back when she was my everything. Not in a romantic way, of course. She was my sister.

I don't know how it got bad enough to make me say was. She has no idea how much I desperately wish that she still cared about me, and that we still hung out.

She isn't my biological sister- I'm an only child. My parents divorced when I was two and we lost all contact with my mom's side of the family. Not that I mind, anyway- I don't remember her at all. Since my dad's a doctor who works almost 24/7, I'm usually alone now. My grandparents on my dad's side died of old age, and I have no aunts or uncles. Sounds tragic or unfair, but it's all I've ever known.

But all that changed in my twelfth year.

Anna and I were going to have our traditional Friday movie night, and this week's movie was at her house, which always smelled of peppermint candies. I loved it when I walked into her warm house every other Friday, especially because her parents loved me like I was their own son. Looking forward to the movie and seeing her again, I trudged home from school and opened the door with a master key my dad always kept in a fake rock under the porch.

“Dad! I'm home!” I called. My words echoed through the house and, when no one answered, called again, “Dad?”

A gust of freezing cold air was the only thing that answered me as usual. No surprise there. My dad must have gotten called into another emergency surgery, leaving me alone in a big, empty house.

After cranking up the heat (Class A Thermostat) and turning on the lights (Country Style lightbulbs), I ran upstairs and plopped down on my bed, which of course had to be a grandiose one for the son of a rich doctor. Since my dad was gone working constantly at the hospital, we had a ton of money. He loved spending it, so everything in our house was fancy, tailered to my father's taste, and basically un-touchable. Anna always made fun of me for that, and together we tiptoed around the house, trying not to breathe as if the air itself was from the Susie Scoreman Gold Collection.

As soon as the house was heated up and the lights were burning bright, I opened up my backpack and pulled out her birthday present to me. I flipped the gift around in my lap and tore off the shiny wrapping paper with enthusiasm. The tag read, “Erik Levers, my brother- I love you!”, which made me smile so large that my cheeks hurt. But what came next put my cheeks scream- Anna's birthday present to me was a scrapbook. A picture of the two of us smiling cheekily next to the colossal jar of Wonka Nerds I won in second grade graced the cover.

I spent the next few hours pouring over the pages, smiling at the memories and just loving life in general.

And then the door opened.

A deep voice bellowed, “Erik?”

“Dad?!” I couldn't believe that he was home!

I raced downstairs, feeling alive and so happy to tell him about Anna's birthday gift. I stopped in my tracks when I saw his face. His rough cheeks were bright red, and his gray eyes were filled with tears. Having no idea what was going on and trying to be careful not to upset him, I quietly headed into the kitchen and heated up a kettle of water for his afternoon coffee. I heard his footsteps echoing slowly throughout the house as he walked into his study. When I took a second to check on him while the water was boiling, he was typing something on his computer, and in the light of his desk lamp, his face suddenly looked old and aged. I ran back to the kitchen and, a few minutes later, poured his coffee just how he still likes it, with two creams and six sugars, and gently sat it on his Classic Oak Desk from the Silver Collection.

He glanced at me, eyes sullen, and said with a harsh tone, “We need to talk.”

“Okay? What's up, Dad?” I said carefully and brought an oak chair from the living room to his desk. I sat down next to him, trying not to tread onto thin ice with my father.

He took a deep breath, wiped away the few tears cascading down his cheeks, grabbed my hands in his, looked me straight in the eyes, and said firmly, “She's back, Erik. She came back.”

“Who? Dad, whats going on?” I didn't get it.

"Think about it, Erik."

And then it hit me. I couldn't believe it. My mother..had come back?! The elusive woman who left and never came back suddenly appeared? This was fantastic! But why was he crying, then?

“But Dad...how could that be bad?”

“Well, Erik...she came back because...”

“Why?” I pressed on, eager for an answer.

“Because she wants you.”

I pulled my hands away from his and stood up, not wanting to believe a word he said. A wave of fear flowed down my body, leaving behind absoloute numbness. I stumbled backwords into the living room and tripped over our coveted leather couch. I felt myself fall into the table in a slow motion of sorts, slipping through the wood frame to the floor with a thump, but was so scared and confused that I barely heard or felt the glass shatter around me. I could see my dad wanting to reach me, console me, make everything better, but he didn't. He just calmly walked into the room, crossed his arms, and stared at me laying dazed on the floor, bleeding from the glass shards. He no longer was crying; in fact he looked pissed.

We just stared at each other for a few minutes. I was trying to work out everything that had happened, this confusing new detail, but in the back of my mind I could see Anna's face the whole time. With her picture to give me strength, I stood up, picked out the biggest glass shards from my arm, and limped into the kitchen leaving a trail of blood.

My dad followed me. "Here, Erik, let me get those for you," he said in a gruff voice, "and try not to bleed all over the house, okay?" That part pissed me off more than anything. Why the hell doesn't he care that mom this... woman has come back for me? Or that I'm bleeding? All he cares about is his stupid work and his stupid table and his stupid house!

He was upstairs by now, probably in the bathroom getting some towels to soak up the blood, my blood, from his fancy Persian carpet. I became more aware with every step I took into the hallway. Now, instead of pain from the cuts or confusion from the big confession, I just felt anger towards my father.

“No, no! I'm not!” I screamed up the stairs with determination, fists clenched. I don't care what he says, I'm never going with either of them, ever!

He appeared at the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry, Son.” was all he said. Not with fear or sadness or shame. No, nothing like that. Just a simple apology to smooth it all over, although at this point, it seemed like nothing would ever be smooth again.

And with the words of my father ringing in my ears, I ran.


Thanks everyone for reading! I super appreciate it! I wrote the original Power of Pop Secret in Anna's point of view, and it makes a full circle of the story. I decided to make a sequel written in Erik's point of view. Part 2 is in the works- I didn't want to bore you too much, so I split the stories up. Erik's point of view gives detail and clarity on not just the story, but his character and his 'inner dragons and demons'.

Anna's point of view- viewtopic.php?t=72211

Taylor

My gosh... I remember this scene in my memories quite vividly...

I liked how you portrayed Erik quite innocently, and how the world used to be fine before the tipping point... I love it... Reminds me of my own experiences...

I really like this. I felt the confusion and the pain the son had when his father told him that his mother wanted him. I could actually picture what was happening in the scene. Keep it up!!!!

Hey Taylor, this is a really cool story!

I glanced at her, feeling her pain and confusion, and tried to remember what we used to be. Back when she was my everything. Not in a romantic way, of course. She was my sister.

Before I start, I just wanted to say that this part was awesomely written. After reading the green part, I stopped reading for a second to sort of try to get inside the main character's head and try to feel the romantic love he felt for this girl. Then I kept reading and figured out it was actually his sister and just began laughing. Anywho, on to the review!

What I liked most about this piece is just your style of writing. As I read it, it just seemed fun and engaging, though you were still able to get across that the story is serious. You can definitely tell that this is a story written for young-mid teens!

His rough cheeks are bright red, and his gray eyes are filled with tears.

Very nice description here. I like it!

There was really only one negative thing that I noticed:

My problems started at the end of sixth grade.

It says here that his problems started in sixth grade, and I think that I know what you are trying to get across. You've just finished talking about some other problems of his though, and I had to think about this sentence for a second to see if it was really the right wording. You don't want your readers doing this, because it distracts them from the story. Maybe you could say "It all started crashing down", or something to that effect; though I don't think that the protagonist seems like the type of guy to say that. My advice is just play around with that sentence and try to come up with something that meshes better with the earlier part of the story.

Overall this was a very engaging, enjoyable read! I'll be sure to review part 2.

Keep Writing!
-HP

I need to read the first one now

I couldn't really find anything wrong that everyone before hadn't already pointed out except for maybe one or two things. You changed Erik's name from Erik to Eric several times, and then you switched in and out of past and present tenses a few times too, both of which were indeed a bit confusing.

Other than that I liked it alot but I think I'd like it even more if I had read the first part first
But that's what I get for clicking on the first thing I see in your portfolio

Hello there By request, here is your review, complete with nitpicks and such.

Anna Trueman sat awkwardly beside me outside Room 239, quietly sobbing. I'm not a huge fan of -ly adjectives, but they're almost impossible to eliminate. Using two so close togther, however, is awkward to read.

I glanced at her, feeling her pain and confusion, and tried to remember what we used to be. Back when she was my everything. Not in a romantic way, of course. She was my sister.

I don't know how it got bad enough to make me say 'was' <-- this would be underlined. She has no idea how much I, Erik Levers I think it'd be more effective to introduce the name either on the card of his birthday present or in a different flashback, desperately wish that she still cared about me, and that we still hung out.

She isn't my biological sister- I'm an only child. My parents divorced when I was two and we lost all contact with my mom's side of the family. Not that I mind, anyway- I don't remember her at all. Since my dad's a doctor who works almost 24/7, I'm usually alone now. My grandparents on my dad's side died of old age, and I have no aunts or uncles. Sounds tragic or unfair, but it's all I've ever known. This paragraph feels like an infodump. Maybe try to spread the information out throughout the whole piece, or totally cut it if it's not that important.

But all that changed in my twelfth year.

Anna and I were going to have our traditional Friday movie night, and this week's movie was at her house. I loved it when I walked into her warm house that smelled of peppermint every other Friday They switch which house they go to every week right? If you read it out loud, it sounds like her house only smells like peppermint on every other Friday, not that her house always smells like peppermint, and Erik gets to smell it every other Friday. Looking forward to the movie and seeing her again, I trudged home from school and opened the door with a master key my dad always kept in a fake rock under the porch.

“Dad! I'm home!” I called. “Dad?”

A gust of freezing cold air was the only thing that answered me as usual. No surprise there. My dad must have gotten called into another emergency surgery, leaving me alone in a big, empty house.

After cranking up the heat and turning on the lights, I ran upstairs and plopped down on my huge "huge" is a lame word, when you think about it bed. Since my dad's gone working constantly at the hospital, we have a ton of money. I'd much rather we be moderately rich or even poor if it would mean he'd be home once in a while. Not that he would ask, and I would definitely never bring it up.

Anyway Don't ever start a sentence (especially a paragraph starting sentence!) with "anyway" unless it's legitimate character dialogue, as soon as the house heated up and the lights were burning bright, I opened up my backpack and pulled out Anna's birthday present I think "the birthday present that Anna gave me" makes more sense, because when I read this at first I thought he was going to give her the present. I held it for a second, just thinking about how lucky I am to know her. Curiousity taking over hm?, I flip the gift around in my lap and tear off the shiny wrapping paper with enthusiasm. The tag read, “I love you!”, which makes me smile so large that my cheeks hurt. But what came next puts my cheeks in near agony The word agony is associated with pain for most people, and I had to read this twice to realize that he was just smiling even larger than he was before- I see that she made me a scrapbook. A picture of the two of us smiling cheekily next to the colossal jar of Wonka Nerds I won in second grade graces the cover.

I spend the next few hours pouring over the pages, smiling at the memories and just loving life in general.

And then the door opens.

A deep voice bellows, “Erik?”

“Dad?!” I couldn't believe that he was home!

Racing downstairs(comma) feeling alive and so happy to tell him about Anna's birthday gift, I stopped in my tracks when I saw his face<-- this sentence is grammatically incorrect. It's classified as a run-on sentence. His rough cheeks were bright red, and his gray eyes were filled with tears. Having no idea what was going on and trying to be careful not to upset him, I quietly headed into the kitchen and heated up a kettle of water for his afternoon coffee. I heard his footsteps echoing slowly throughout the house as he walked into his study. When I took a second to check on him, he was typing something on his computer and, in the light of his desk lamp, his face suddenly looked old and aged. I ran back to the kitchen and pour his coffee just how he still likes it, with two creams and six sugars, and gently set it on his desk if you knew anything about coffee, you'd know that it takes a lot longer than that to make. I don't know if you know anything about coffee.

He glanced at me, eyes sullen, and said with a harsh tone, “We need to talk.”

“Okay? What's up, Dad?” I said carefully and sat down next to his desk, trying not to tread onto thin ice with my father, seeing he's obviously upset.<-- this isn't a run-on sentence, but it's awkward to read because of the fact that you have three descriptive clauses rather than the standard two. If it wasn't also a speaker tag, this probably would've been fine.

He took a deep breath as more tears welled up in his eyes, grabbed my hands in his, looked me straight in the eyes, and said firmly, “She's back, Erik. She came back.”

“Who?! Dad, whats going on?” The punctuation "?!" hasn't actually been legitimized, at least to my knowledge.

"Think about it, Erik."

And then it hit me. I couldn't believe it. My mother..had come back?! The elusive woman who left and never came back suddenly appeared? This was fantastic! But why was he crying, then?

“But Dad...how could that be bad?”

“Well, Erik...she came back because...”

“Why?” I pressed on, eager for an answer.

“Because she wants you.”

I pulled my hands away from his and stood up, not believing a word he was saying You seemed to have an easy enough time believing most of the words he was saying, so this hyperbole doesn't really apply. A wave of fear washed down my body<-- this phrase sounds awkward. Perhaps "A wave of fear flowed through my body" instead, followed by the feeling of absoloute numbness numbness isn't a feeling. it's when you can't feel anything. so you can't feel it. if that makes sense..

“No. No. I'm not..”

“I'm sorry, Son.” I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice even.

And with those words ringing in my ears, I ran.

You switch tenses a lot, and that might work out if you keep it consistant throughout each paragraph, but you don't. Try writing it all in past tense, and then if you still really want this to have a more "flashback-y" feel, change the tenses by paragraph, not by sentence.

The dialogue doesn't seem realistic to me, partially because you don't have any description of what the characters are doing while they're speaking. People move around and shift their eyes and fidget with their clothes and do other things while they're talking, so make sure you include that. It will give the whole scene a more relatable feel, and probably create more tension (which is good... you want your readers on the edge of their seats, no matter what genre you're writing in).

I'd also like to know more about what the scenery looks like, even if it is just the inside of Erik's <insert alternative word for "huge" here> house. What does the furniture look like? Hardwood or carpet? Where are the windows? As long as it's not revealed in an infodump paragraph, readers do actually want to know these things.

Like I said before, try to avoid -ly adjectives as much as possible. Also, maybe experiment with combining and separating sentences; it changes the flow of the words. Make sure you read everything you write out loud too.

So far, I think it's really good Keep writing, good luck, and PM me if you have any questions. That is all.

Hello there, AllyGrLxOx here to review as requested!
In three short words I will summarize my overall feelings, I loved it!
The way you ended this literally had me wanting to cry, I may be someone who is over-emotional towards anything sad I read or watch but still.

That ending was full of pure and utter awesomeness.
In the beginging I wasn't totally drawn into the story but as soon as Erik's father came home I became hooked!

So I have a few nitpicks and some sentences that I would reword that I'll now share with you,

“Dad! I'm home!” I called. “Dad?”

Before you jump into having him call "Dad?" I'd suggest saying something like: "Dad! I'm home!" I tapped my thigh earnestly as I waited for a reply, "Dad?"

That certainly isn't what you must write, merely a suggestion!

No surprise there.

Short and choppy sentences are one of my pet-peeves, try combining that sentence with another one please!

But what came next puts my cheeks in near agony- I see that she made me a scrapbook.

To me the second half of that sentence "I see that she made me a scrapbook," doesn't flow well. Maybe some rewording?

When I took a second to check on him, he was typing something on his computer and, in the light of his desk lamp, his face suddenly looked old and aged.

I believe the comma should go after the word computer not "and."

Because she wants you.”

I pulled my hands away from his and stood up, not believing a word he was saying. A wave of fear washed down my body, followed by the feeling of absoloute numbness.

“No. No. I'm not..”

“I'm sorry, Son.” I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice even.

And with those words ringing in my ears, I ran.

Once again, you're ending was amazing.

Alright overall this piece was great and I can honestly say that it was a pleasure to read!

Well now I'm off to read Anna's point of view since this story has hooked me in!

Any questions?
Feel free to PM me(:

I loved it, cant wait for part 2. I'm not the best reviewer, to be frank I'm a fail reviewer since i dont know how to review at all but i can say that I liked it XD
Plus i commented just so it would be supermegaawesomeboffodeliciouscrazygood

Hello there, ILovebubbles123! I hope you are having a great day and I apologize for being a bit late on the get-go to complete this request. I happened to start back at school yesterday, and I just could not find the time to review this last night. Alas, I am finally here.

Alright. I do not want to focus on the nitpicks in this story, but I will tell you some things that you need to watch overall. For one, be careful of punctuation like the following: "?!?" because it really never has been legitimized, and is often times seen as a childish way to punctuate your sentences. Also, beware of run-on sentences. You do have quite a few of them, and they have been pointed out by the other users who reviewed this. Readers do notice things like run-ons, just because they are a pain in butt to read (at least to me).

Now, there is one major problem you had in this story. The whole story should be in past tense, except for perhaps the first part, where it's in present. You should start using past tense right after "all that changed in my twelfth year". You did this -- to an extent. I found that you oftentimes would switch between past and present tense, which can be a confusing thing to do, and readers loathe it. Personally, I would put down a book that switched between tenses. One way to fix these tense-switches, as I'll call them, is to just go through and read it aloud (my advice for grammar mistakes, too). Usually you notice more of your errors like tense-switches when you read the story aloud.

The next thing I want to focus on is that the story itself confused me for a bit. I had to re-read it three times, just to get the full gist of it. I think how you change from present to the flashback can be confusing, especially if the transition is awkward, which it was in this case. Generally, I would have said something like, "We had still been friends before my twelfth year. But the twelfth year changed everything. I had been..." I just think it to be a smoother transition into a flashback, as yours is a little rough.

Another thing I want to mention is the fact that the father/son relationship seems too strained and fake, in my opinion. You see, everyone makes it out that doctors and surgeons are never home, but in reality, I am a chief of surgeon's daughter, and my father was/is home a lot throughout my life. He did have times when he was at the hospital for awhile, yes, but it was not as extreme as people often make it to be. Which leads me to thinking the father/son relationship in this story is too fake.

On the other hand, the mother/son relationship also seems fake. So his mother left him (Erik) and he still wants her back? I doubt it. It just does not seem like a realistic reaction. I mean, she abandoned him -- so where's the motivation to make him excited for her to be back? I don't see it, and I was confused with his excitement and that, too, disappears when his father says she wants him. What, so he's excited to see her but doesn't want to live with her? I thought the father/son relationship was bad? The relationships in this story seem mighty fake to me.

The last thing I want to address is dialogue. The dialogue seems fake and forced, and like one of the users above me said, most characters do things when they talk. Examples are: scratch their head, bite their lips, slump their shoulders. Adding these in will make the dialogue more realistic, and therefore flesh out your characters a little bit, as well.

Overall, you do have some things I wish you to work on when you rewrite this. But you have intrigued me enough to read Part Two, and that is always a good thing. I might even go check out Anna's point of view, just to see what it is like. I hope this review helps and if you have any questions, just message me.

Have a g'day!
- Mizz

Hi (: It's Pari, here to review like you asked~

The spoiler is a total nitpick.

One thing, remember that after you use '...' and there is another word after, there is a space between the '...' and the word. I saw this two or three times.

Alright.
So the tense is a little inconsistent - throughout the end, it should be all past tense, but there are a few occasions where you switch back to present, which is a little annoying. For example:

Why the hell doesn't didn't he care that mom this... woman has come back for me? Or that I'm bleeding? All he cares cared about is his stupid work and his stupid table and his stupid house!

I'll start off here by saying I LOVE flashbacks. I absolutely do. Some of my favourite novels are half flashback, half what's-happening-right-now. And I think the most important part when writing a flashback isn't the actual content, but the transition to it. The content could be fudged a bit, but if your transition isn't smooth, it's jarring and just awkward.
Your transitory line here - but all that changed in my twelfth year is a little rough. I would write something a little longer, maybe a bit more eloquent - Until my twelfth year, we had been the closest of friends. But that year changed everything. It started with...

The dialogue seems a little fake and superficial. You should add small actions that people normally make while they're talking, and just generally make their speech a little more... comfortable, for lack of a more accurate word.
The father/son relationship here confuses me. I think that's another thing here that's superficial, and it detracts from the story because it is a driving force in what happens. He doesn't like living with his father, but he won't go to his mother. As I mentioned in the nitpick, his father's actions and words are also a little inconsistent. What I do is draw maps and charts and make notes about character relationships on paper - that way, I'm so familiar with the relationship that it naturally becomes real when I write.

So, there are a few areas you could improve on while rewriting this.
However, I have to say that I really liked this piece. I think you also did a good job of portraying Erik's emotions throughout, which is always good. The piece was overall riveting and well-written, and I loved the last line of the story. The ending is realistic and is a very good effect. It's interesting enough that I definitely want to read Part 2, as well as Anna's point of view. Good job!

Hey, Bubbles! As requested.

So, you've gotten some good feedback on this so far and I will be careful not to drone on too long and repeat what has already had been said, but I just had a few things that I wanted to point out.

This is a nice idea, and with revisions I think that you can take this story and these characters far. Right now, however, it feels like it's a bit weak. Removing the excess punctuation in future drafts, like Mizzle pointed out, will be a great first step. Like the others have said, your tenses also need work -- past to denote the flashbacks and present to denote the, well, present, would make sense. If it gets too confusing for you, another thing that is possible is removing the beginning and starting at the flashback scene -- then you could work up to your beginning and the whole thing could either be in past or present, whichever you so choose.

First, I want to second Mizzle's concerns about the characters, the dialogue, and how talk and how they react to the events around them. These will strengthen the characters, make them more indefinable and make your story all the more enjoyable. Something about Anna, though -- you say that she is not biologically related, but you never say how they are brother and sister. Did his father adopt? Did he have her by a different woman? If the latter is true, then she would be a half sibling. Did he remarry, his wife already having a daughter (Anna)? If that is true, she would be a step sibling. If any of these are true, where does she live? Why does she live somewhere else?

Second, something about divorce. My parents have been divorced since I was four, and although I was too little to understand what was going on then, I have learned more and more about what happened as the years go by.

See, divorce is a big legal battle. When it comes to child custody, you basically have to do what the court tells you to. The dad could not just break off contact with his ex-wife by his own accord, and if the mother has custody as well, she could not either and suddenly decide that she is not going to see her child. Even joint custody has a lot of different ways in which it could go about, and usually with sole custody there are visitation rights, except is something is deemed wrong with the other parent. If the mother left and sole custody was given to the dad, she would have to fight the courts hard to get sole custody of her son.

It's really hard for me to explain because it's all very complicated. I recommend you read this article and do some other research when you rewrite -- decide what type of custody the parents have, decide what the exact terms are, and that will make things a lot more clearer in your future drafts.

Good luck, and PM me for anything!

~ Elinor

Hey Bubbles, Sorry I'm sort of late.

The reviewers before me have dissected this piece correctly, and I might not have that much to comment on without repeating them. I quite like this, I think it could be really good. It just needs a bit of work, especially when it comes to the MC and the reader understanding whats going on in the story.

So, firstly I'll be dealing with characterisation. Erik to me is a bit of a 2D character. I don't feel like we're getting all of him yet, we're getting his regrets, his pain, his hurt, but it seems a bit monotonous the way he tells us about it. For Example:

I pulled my hands away from his and stood up, not wanting to believe a word he said. A wave of fear flowed down my body, leaving behind absoloute numbness. I stumbled backwords into the living room and tripped over our coveted leather couch. I felt myself fall into the table in a slow motion of sorts, slipping through the wood frame to the floor with a thump, but was so scared and confused that I barely heard or felt the glass shatter around me. I could see my dad wanting to reach me, console me, make everything better, but he didn't. He just calmly walked into the room, crossed his arms, and stared at me laying dazed on the floor, bleeding from the glass shards. He no longer was crying; in fact he looked pissed.

I mean this stuff happened to him, I feel like he should be a bit more connected to it somehow. When I read it, I feel like he is a bit distanced from it all.

Secondly, Readers understanding. To deal with this I think you should read this from the point of view of the reader, and write down any questions that you feel are unanswered. I say this because as a writer you know exactly what's going on in the story, and sometimes you might forget that someone is meant to read it.

Hope that helped,

Anger

hey bubbles! here for your review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dun-du-a- da!

Anna Trueman sat awkwardly beside me outside Room 239, quietly sobbing.
this beginning pulls the reader in, making them wonder why she crying. Nice!
I glanced at her, feeling her pain and confusion, and tried to remember what we used to be. Back when she was my everything. Not in a romantic way, of course. She was my sister.

I don't know how it got bad enough to make me say was. She has no idea how much I desperately wish that she still cared about me, and that we still hung out.
why don't they hang out with each other any more?

She isn't my biological sister- I'm an only child. My parents divorced when I was two and we lost all contact with my mom's side of the family. Not that I mind, anyway- I don't remember her at all. Since my dad's a doctor who works almost 24/7, I'm usually alone now. My grandparents on my dad's side died of old age, and I have no aunts or uncles. Sounds tragic or unfair, but it's all I've ever known.

But all that changed in my twelfth year.
I'm not sure this twelfth year stuff needs to be here, let's just say, But that all changed (okay?)

Anna and I were going to have our traditional Friday movie night, and this week's movie was at her house, which always smelled of peppermint candies. I loved it when I walked into her warm house every other Friday, especially because her parents loved me like I was their own son. Looking forward to the movie and seeing her again, I trudged home from school and opened the door with a master key my dad always kept in a fake rock under the porch.
wait, I thought he was going to Anna's? why is he home instead?
“Dad! I'm home!” I called. My words echoed through the house and, when no one answered, called again, “Dad?”

A gust of freezing cold air was the only thing that answered me as usual. No surprise there. My dad must have gotten called into another emergency surgery, leaving me alone in a big, empty house.

After cranking up the heat (Class A Thermostat) and turning on the lights (Country Style lightbulbs), I ran upstairs and plopped down on my bed, which of course had to be a grandiose one for the son of a rich doctor. Since my dad was gone working constantly at the hospital, we had a ton of money. He loved spending it, so everything in our house was fancy, tailered to my father's taste, and basically un-touchable. Anna always made fun of me for that, and together we tiptoed around the house, trying not to breathe as if the air itself was from the Susie Scoreman Gold Collection.

As soon as the house was heated up and the lights were burning bright, I opened up my backpack and pulled out her birthday present to me. I flipped the gift around in my lap and tore off the shiny wrapping paper with enthusiasm. The tag read, “Erik Levers, my brother- I love you!”, which made me smile so large that my cheeks hurt. But what came next put my cheeks scream
how about we try: what came next made my cheeks scream (okay?)
- Anna's birthday present to me was a scrapbook. A picture of the two of us smiling cheekily next to the colossal jar of Wonka Nerds I won in second grade graced the cover.

I spent the next few hours pouring over the pages, smiling at the memories and just loving life in general.

And then the door opened.

A deep voice bellowed, “Erik?”

“Dad?!” I couldn't believe that he was home! . not !
I raced downstairs, feeling alive and so happy to tell him about Anna's birthday gift. I stopped in my tracks when I saw his face. His rough cheeks were bright red, and his gray eyes were filled with tears. Having no idea what was going on and trying to be careful not to upset him, I quietly headed into the kitchen and heated up a kettle of water for his afternoon coffee. I heard his footsteps echoing slowly throughout the house as he walked into his study. When I took a second to check on him while the water was boiling, he was typing something on his computer, and in the light of his desk lamp, his face suddenly looked old and aged. I ran back to the kitchen and, a few minutes later, poured his coffee just how he stilllikes it, with two creams and six sugars, and gently sat it on his Classic Oak Desk from the Silver Collection
let's try: from Better Homes and Garden in the office collection.People reconize that.
He glanced at me, eyes sullen, and said with a harsh tone, “We need to talk.”

“Okay? What's up, Dad?” I said carefully and brought an oak chair from the living room to his desk. I sat down next to him, trying not to tread onto thin ice with my father.

He took a deep breath, wiped away the few tears cascading down his cheeks, grabbed my hands in his, looked me straight in the eyes, and said firmly, “She's back, Erik. She came back.”

“Who? Dad, whats going on?” I didn't get it.

"Think about it, Erik."

And then it hit me. I couldn't believe it. My mother..had come back?! The elusive woman who left and never came back suddenly appeared? This was fantastic! But why was he crying, then?

“But Dad...how could that be bad?”

“Well, Erik...she came back because...”

“Why?” I pressed on, eager for an answer.

“Because she wants you.”

I pulled my hands away from his and stood up, not wanting to believe a word he said. A wave of fear flowed down my body, leaving behind absoloute numbness. I stumbled backwords into the living room and tripped over our coveted leather couch. I felt myself fall into thewhat table? coffee table? Desk? sofa table? table in a slow motion of sorts, slipping through the wood frame to the floor with a thump, but was so scared and confused that I barely heard or felt the glass shatter around me. I could see my dad wanting to reach me, console me, make everything better, but he didn't. He just calmly walked into the room, crossed his arms, and stared at me laying dazed on the floor, bleeding from the glass shards. He no longer was crying; in fact he looked pissed.

We just stared at each other for a few minutes. I was trying to work out everything that had happened, this confusing new detail, but in the back of my mind I could see Anna's face the whole time. With her picture to give me strength, I stood up, picked out the biggest glass shards from my arm, and limped into the kitchen leaving a trail of blood.

My dad followed me. "Here, Erik, let me get those for you," he said in a gruff voice, "and try not to bleed all over the house, okay?" That part pissed me off more than anything. Why the hell doesn't he care that mom just completly delete this this... woman has come back for me? Or that I'm bleeding? All he cares about is his stupid work and his stupid table and his stupid house!

He was upstairs by now, probably in the bathroom getting some towels to soak up the blood, my blood, from his fancy Persian carpet. I became more aware with every step I took into the hallway. Now, instead of pain from the cuts or confusion from the big confession, I just felt anger towards my father.

“No, no! I'm not!” I screamed up the stairs with determination, fists clenched. I don't care what he says, I'm never going with either of them, ever!

He appeared at the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry, Son.” was all he said. Not with fear or sadness or shame. No, nothing like that. Just a simple apology to smooth it all over, although at this point, it seemed like nothing would ever be smooth again.

And with the words of my father ringing in my ears, I ran.

Grammar:
Nice, though you have to many words in some places. explaining things to much gives to little space for the readers imagantion

Storyline/Plot:
this is a nice, simple perfect story. You shapped the charecters personality in one peice, and that's hard to do.

Chareters:
Eric seems so happy in the begining and then happy then upset, that is perfect. You potrayed his emotions very well.

Overall:
This is awesome. I LOVE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :thumbs up:

Loved it!
~pointe

Sorry I'm a bit late!

Anna Trueman sat awkwardly beside me outside Room 239, quietly sobbing.

I think the 'quietly sobbing' part sounds quite awkward. In my opinion, it would sound a lot better as 'sobbing quietly'.

I don't know how it got bad enough to make me say was.

This confused me ... that she was what? Her sister? They aren't biological sisters? I'm confused.

Not that I mind, anyway- I don't remember her at all.

I think the sentence would be stronger without 'anyway', since it's not necessary.

A gust of freezing cold air was the only thing that answered me as usual.

There should be a comma after 'me'.

After cranking up the heat (Class A Thermostat) and turning on the lights (Country Style lightbulbs), I ran upstairs and plopped down on my bed, which of course had to be a grandiose one for the son of a rich doctor.

Something about this doesn't seem to go well with the rest of the sentence. :/

Since my dad was gone working constantly at the hospital, we had a ton of money.

Either get rid of 'gone' or add a comma after it.

He loved spending it, so everything in our house was fancy, tailered to my father's taste, and basically un-touchable.

*Tailored, and I'm 99.9% sure it's "untouchable".

The tag read, “Erik Levers, my brother- I love you!”, which made me smile so large that my cheeks hurt.

'Large' sounds awkward here - maybe try "smile so hard" or "smile so big" instead?

But what came next put my cheeks scream- Anna's birthday present to me was a scrapbook.

Hmm ... did you mean to say "made my cheeks scream"?

“Dad?!” I couldn't believe that he was home!

This is really a matter of personal opinion, but generally '?!' isn't used in published novels - it's seen as a bit unprofessional, I believe.

When I took a second to check on him while the water was boiling, he was typing something on his computer, and in the light of his desk lamp, his face suddenly looked old and aged.

These are synonyms, so it sounds repetitive. Try replacing one of them with a word like 'tired' or 'gaunt'.

He glanced at me, eyes sullen, and said with a harsh tone, “We need to talk.”

Reword: He glanced at me, eyes sullen, and said harshly, "we need to talk."

“Who? Dad, whats going on?” I didn't get it.

This part seems unnecessary - obviously he doesn't understand if he's asking these questions.

With her picture to give me strength, I stood up, picked out the biggest glass shards from my arm, and limped into the kitchen leaving a trail of blood.

There should be a comma after 'kitchen'.

“I'm sorry, Son.” was all he said.

The period after 'son' should be a comma.

_______________________________________

1. This is pretty confusing. I don't see how any of the story's events relate to one another, or how the beginning scene had anything to do with the rest of it. It's very unclear. You start with the main character not being friends with this Anna girl, then proceed to explain that they were friends ... the reader must assume that something happened. I expected that the reason for them not being close anymore would be explained in the rest of the story, but it was not. Basically, it doesn't really make sense and by the end of the piece there's a lot of loose ends.
2. I found the whole part with the table a little overly dramatic. It could be pulled off, but you didn't make it seem very realistic - there was no mention of the sharp pain of the cuts or the noise of breaking glass.
3. Relating to what I just said, there wasn't really enough description to visualize it clearly in my head, or any other sensory details to make it seem more realistic. Try adding things that the narrator would be experiencing with all 5 senses: touch, taste, sight, hearing, & smelling. For example, the smell of the brewing coffee. Little things like this will make it seem more realistic and make the reader feel like they are actually there.
4. With that being said, I found myself wanting to know what would happen next as I read, especially at the part where his dad returned home and said "we have to talk". The suspense worked well without trying too hard, so kudos for that.

Overall, this has potential. I think a little more imagery and character development on the narrator would make the story more believable, interesting and relatable. Also, work on making a stronger connection between the events; it seems very vague right now, unless that's just me.

Good luck!