OKAY, so i started a story similar to this one, so I am hoping to post that one instead. I just couldn't move forward with this plot, so i had to think of another one. It will quite similar, so yah.
Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for language and violence.
I sighed as I looked at the bright, sunny sky and remembered the picnics we used to have and the picnic on that fateful day.
I started to see flashes of the accident. The sunny morning, the spider, the truck speeding towards us, the horrible noise of the screeching tires and my mother screaming, and the blood . . . so much blood.Why couldn’t I forget everything? Why did I survive and they didn’t? My parents abandoned me and so did God. Everyone left me.
The strange thing is that I never cried. The tears wouldn’t come out. I didn’t cry at my parents’ funeral, and I didn’t cry when I was escorted to this orphanage, and I still don’t cry now. I just feel this overwhelming ache eat at my heart, and this empty feeling, leaving me incomplete. I was lost in my thoughts until I heard a voice calling me.
“Parvati, honey,” a voice called. “You have to eat sometime. Just come down and eat, okay?” I waited for her to call me a few more times before heaving myself out of my chair and going downstairs. I looked listlessly at the clumpy oatmeal set in front of me. I prodded it with my spoon, and then gulped it as fast as I could so that I didn’t have to endure the horrible taste. I missed waffles with butter and syrup and whipped cream my mom and I made.
“Go outside for a bit,” said the caretaker gently.
“Yes, Matilda ma’am,” I replied dully, getting up to go to the door. Matilda ran up and pressed a twenty-dollar bill into my hand.
“Can you please buy some milk, eggs, and sugar? I don’t have enough time to go,” she pleaded.
I nodded and continued towards the door. It felt good to be outside. I slowly walked to the grocery store when I heard screaming, yelling, and cursing. I saw a petite girl surrounded by a bunch of guys, and she looked incredibly frightened.
I walked towards the group and said, “Stop crowding around her, assholes. Does it really take all seven of you weaklings to corner a girl?” I smirked at them.
They whipped around to see who it was, and when they saw me, they stared, shocked and disgruntled. Then one, who I assumed was their leader, said in a low voice, “You fuckin’ bitch. Don’t you see I am busy with something? Guys, just kill her. We already have one. We don't need another ugly one.”
Yelling, they rushed at me while I watched them wondering which one I should take down first. The first man tried to punch me, but I dodged and punched him on his jaw, causing him to stumble backwards into his fellow teammates. I beat them up pretty well in a matter of minutes, smiling as I heard the satisfying crunches of bones being crushed and broken.
As I fought, I forgot myself. Now that I was done, reality rushed back at me, a tsunami or sorrow and loss. Horror followed; how could I have found pleasure in causing pain to others. Then, I remembered the girl.I carefully stepped around the bodies of moaning or listless men, and made my way to the frightened girl. “Are you okay?” I asked the girl. She just looked over my shoulder fearfully, and stammered. Suddenly, I felt a sharp stab of pain on the back of my head, and the world seemed to be slipping away.
Before it turned dark, I heard someone say, “To hit a lady . . . despicable. Do you want to die?”
OKAY, so i started a story similar to this one, so I am hoping to post that one instead. I just couldn't move forward with this plot, so i had to think of another one. It will quite similar, so yah.
Hallo!
This is really well-done. The writing style is concise and clear, and the story makes me want to keep reading. I can't wait for Part 2!
A few suggestions for improvement:
Firstly, a minor change, but I would suggest combining the first two sentences into something like "The bright sunny sky reminded me of the picnics we used to have." That way, you start with the hook of someone who used to have picnics with them, and make the reader wonder what happened. That's a far more interesting hook then just looking up at the sky.
Also, I would suggest adding more character development into the story, and perhaps have a more unique character. The character is interesting because of what has happened to them, with her parents dying, but not really because of who she is. So try to think about things such as, How would she react differently than anyone else would? That's the sort of thing that distinguishes her from others. The situation she is in, with her parents dying and her living in an orphanage, has been done a lot before, so the key thing here is having her react differently than everyone else would in this situation. That's what distinguishes your character, and that's what distinguishes your story.
All in all, I think you did a really good job with this. With a little more character development, this could be even better!
_Wherethewindgoes
Hey there!
Firstly I liked the story, it was a good attempt. I like the introduction to Parvati, I see you are trying to make the reader connect to her.
I started to see flashes of the accident. The sunny morning, the spider, the truck speeding towards us, the horrible noise of the screeching tires and my mother screaming, and the blood . . . so much blood. I sobbed to myself. Why couldn’t I forget everything? Why did I survive and they didn’t? My parents abandoned me and so did God. Everyone left me.
I just feel this overwhelming ache eat at my heart, and this empty feeling, leaving me incomplete. I felt lost in my sorrows until I heard a voice calling me.
Yelling, they rushed at me while I watched them with an amused expression. The first one tried to punch me, but I dodged and punched him on his jaw, causing him to stumble backwards into his fellow teammates. I beat them up pretty well in a matter of minutes, smiling as I heard the satisfying crunches of bones being crushed and broken.
Before it turned dark, I heard someone say, “To hit a lady . . . despicable. Do you want to die?”
Hey Unicorn, I was browsing the Green Room when I came across this so I thought I'd come and review it for you!
I sighed as I looked at the bright, sunny sky. It reminded me of the picnics we used to have and the picnic on that fateful day.
I missed waffles with butter and syrup and whipped cream.
I walked towards the group and said, “Stop crowding around her, assholes. Can’t you see she’s scared ‘cause of your ugly faces?”
Then one, who I assumed was their leader, said in a low voice, “You fuckin’ bitch. Don’t you see I am busy with something? Guys, just take her down.”
Now that I was done, reality rushed back at me, a tsunami or sorrow and loss.
Before it turned dark, I heard someone say, “To hit a lady . . . despicable. Do you want to die?”
Hello! I enjoyed reading your story so I thought I should say something on it. 
First off: It's very good. But there a few things I'd like to point out, mostly minor things.
In your second paragraph, you say ' I sobbed to myself. Why couldn’t I forget everything?'
then you start your next paragraph by saying 'The strange thing is that I never cried.'
See how these contradict each other? Either she cries or she doesn't cry.
Also a little later in the same paragraph you start a sentence with 'I just feel this overwhelming ache eat at my heart' and the next sentence starts 'I felt lost in my sorrows until I heard a voice calling me.' The verbs are the same, but the tenses are different. This isn't a huge problem because sometimes the tense needs the change, but to maintain a cohesive quality try your best to avoid this.
That's all I've got for advice; good story, good idea, keep writing.
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