Forgetting Part 2 (edited)

Alright, the hard part is over, now I just have to wait, I think to myself. (put thought in italics)As I linger here I examine my yard,the moon casts patches of light over the open space. A large tree occupies the right corner of my yard. Tied to one of the many branches is a large swing, and sitting in front of it my sister's slide. It looks very eerie in the dark, but I know I won't be here for much longer, and this (thought) alone comforts me. A field decorates the border of our property, and a large driveway sits to my left. I am very careful not to get close to it though, because of the motion sensitive lights. I slip to the side of the house, and head toward the tree. Before I can reach the safety of it's outstretched branches I feel the vibration of my phone in my pocket. Panic sinks in again as I pull the phone out of my pocket, what if my parents woke up and are wondering where I am! (italics) I am soon relieved by the name written across the screen.

Right now I’m trying to imagine where she is. Is she sitting on a porch? Is she standing by the door? Instead of saying ‘as I linger here’ be like ‘As I leaned against my house I examined…’.

Maybe you could’ve introduced his name to us? We still don’t know it.

"Hey," I say almost inaudibly.
"What did you say?"
"I said hey, I have to whisper." In all reality I didn't have to whisper, I know the fan in my parents room will block out all of the noise, it just feels safer to do so.
"Oh, well we're on your road so you can start walking toward us."
Well this should be easy, I think to myself. Since I am by the tree already I try to stay as close to the field behind it as possible so I won't be seen. When I reach the road I see headlights in the distance.
"OK. I'm walking and I see headlights. Are they yours?
"Um.... yea. I think I see you."
My nerves grip at my legs locking them in place for the few seconds it takes him to arrive. As soon as the car pulls up I make a quick examination of it. The car was clearly an older model, and the white paint needed to be redone. The back door wouldn't open from the outside, so J.C. swiftly reached his arm back and let me in. (I think you changed tenses in this sentence) I almost fall over at seeing him again, but quickly regain composure. Why am I so stupid when I'm around him, why am I so stupid all the time? Ignoring the bash to my nonexistent self-esteem I climb in the car, but soon realize I will have to sit on the opposite side because of a guitar.

I really don’t think you need all the commentary from your character. It’s mainly just nervous rambling, which I think is unnecessary.

"Sorry about the mess, it was a lot messier before we cleaned it out."

Words seem unnesesary,(check how I spelled it ^) so I examine the faces in front of me instead. Without even thinking I recognize the curly, long, black hair that J.C. always covers with a toboggan. His equally onyx eyes look back at me in the rear view mirror. With him driving, his face is almost impossible to study, so I give up and examine his friend. He, too has curly hair, but it's much shorter, and dark brown instead of black. The most prominent feature of his face is a thick, brown, beard that starts at his chin, and ends at his ears. This feature makes him look much older than he truly is.

"So, you ready to go role this shit up?"
roll
I almost jump when he interrupts my thoughts.
"Sure," I blurt out just a bit too late.

I think about the key to me being here, and the key to me forgetting everything. Forgetting almost seems like a dream to me now. For the past two months I've done nothing but remember, and I am tired of remembering the pain. Now it's finally time to forget, forget everything.

I didn’t like that paragraph. I didn’t make much sense to me.

Just then we pull over on a dirt slab on the side of the road. I sit silently as a thought grips my mind, and then the question slips.

"So, y'all just walk out the front door, and leave when you want?"
"Pretty much," J.C. says as he switches positions in his seat.
This makes me wonder how uncomfortable he really is with me here.
"I wish my parents didn't care what I did, or where I went," I said thoughtfully.
"No, you want them to care, trust me," his friend commented.
This is really the first time I've ever heard him speak, I wonder why?(I don’t think you need this last sentence)
"Yea, the worst feeling in the world is when your parents look you in the eyes, and tell you that they've given up on you. The only thing you can think to say is, no, don't give up on me ."
"I guess," I say lightly, "but my parents don't care about me, all they care about is me being little miss perfect." "Oh and they want their stupid rules to be followed." (No need to separate the dialogue here. Just make it two straight sentences.)
"I'd rather have strict parents," J.C. said almost to himself, "Well do you have the stuff?" he added after a slight pause breaking the awkward silence.
"Yea," I say as I search for the little bag in my purse. Soon my fingers grasp the edge of the bag, and I pull it out revealing the green shreaded leaves inside. Slowly, I hand the bag to J.C., and he takes it and examines it carefully.

"Hm, it will do I guess."

His words worry me. Did I do something wrong?, I ask myself. Soon I forget about this, and I watch him fumble around looking for the papers we need.

"Holy shit I can't find them, maybe I left them at your place Clark."


So that's his name, I make a personal note to remember this.

"Maybe," he replied indifferently.
"I guess we're heading to Clark's then."
Just as I say this he starts the car.
"Yup, guess we have to."

After we go down several curvy roads we reach his house. It isn't much to look at, but it seems more like home than my souless (soulless) house. I can't tell much about it in the dark; all I can see is that it is an older trailer. I make out a dog laying on the tiny porch , and a shed sitting off to the side.

"OK, you wait here while we go find the papers."
"Alright," I say barely paying attention.

When they disappear I start to examine the guitar sitting beside me. It's a very simple acoustic guitar, but I know he values it more than his own life. I stroke the strings gently as I watch them reappear. When he gets back in the car his hands are full of odds and ends.

"Hand me that blade sitting behind you."
"Um, sure," I say as I carefully hand him the knife.

Now I can see what he carried out with him. A coke can, tin foil, and now the knife. I watch him cutting holes, ripping tin foil, and making little incisions in the tin foil. He catches me staring and starts to explain.

‘ripping’ and ‘making incisions’ are pretty much the same thing so I would just choose one.

"We couldn't find the wrappers, so we are making do with what we have."
He stared at me as if looking for a reply so I quickly say, "OK."

I hear the car rumble to life again, and I feel the movement as we head back to where we began.

So I liked this a lot better than your first chapter. I think your characters are really starting to come through, and your dialogue was really nice. This chapter flowed really well, especially towards the end. Good job!

Hey there Flower! I'm here to review like you asked. All of my comments and corrections will be in pink.

Alright, the hard part is over, now I just have to sit and wait. If I were you I would put that part in italics, and also add I thought to myself. Without that, it just seems odd that it's not displayed as thoughts As I linger here I examine my yard. Tthe moon casts patches of light over the open space. A large tree occupies the right corner of my yard. Tied to one of the many branches is a large swing, and sitting in front of it is my sister's slide. It looks very eerie in the dark, but I know I won't be here very long, and this alone comforts me. A field decorates the border of our property, and a large driveway sits to my left. This whole chapter so far has been bland and meaning-less description. If it doesn't progress the story, then it should be cut. Also, wouldn't she look a bit conspicious if she is just sitting on her steps looking around at her yard? It seems like an odd sight to me because I don't think many people would be doing this if they were nervous/anxious. It would be more likely that she would be fidgeting, standing up then sittind down again, looking around nervously-thing of that sort. I am very careful not to get close to it though, because of the motion sensitive lights. I slip to the side of the house and head toward the tree. Before I can reach the safety of its outstretched branches, I feel the vibration of my phone in my pocket. Panic sinks in again as I pull the phone out of my pocket to answer it. Why would she be panicking if her phone is ringing? Wouldn't that mean that he was almost there? And assuming that she thought someone would hear, it's on vibrate not some obnoxious ringtone.

"Hey," I say almost inaudibly.

"What did you say?"

"I said hey, I have to whisper." In all reality I didn't have to whisper, it just felt safer to do so. Well if she didn't whisper and was loud, then wouldn't someone hear her? That is unless her parents sleep like logs...

"Oh, well we're on your road so you can start walking toward us."

Well this should be easy, I think to myself. I try to stay as close to the field as possible so I won't be seen. Where did this field come from? I thought she was just walking away from her house? When I reach the road, I see headlights in the distance.

"OK. I'm walking, and I see headlights. Are they yours?

"Um...yea. I think I see you."

My nerves grip at my legs for the few seconds it takes him to arrive. That sounds extremely wierd. Nerves grabbed her legs? It would probably make sense to say that her knees were wobbly or something like that. As soon as the car pulls up, I make a quick examination. Of what? The car was clearly an older model, and the white paint needed to be redone. The back door wouldn't open from the outside, so J.C. swiftly reaches his arm back and lets me in. I almost fall over at seeing him again, but quickly regain my composure. I climb in the car but soon realize I will have to sit on the opposite side because of a guitar. Why was she taking inventory of the car? Who would ever do that when they were sneaking out? I think that she would be more preoccupied with trying to get all the way gone without being noticed. The car really doesn't matter, so I think that all of those little tell-y things can and should be deleted.

"Sorry," he replied automatically. "It was a lot messier before we cleaned it out." I don't think you should say replied since she hasn't spoken while she was in the car. Also, it seems wierd that he's saying sorry, and then he's saying they cleaned it. It sounds like he's apologizing for cleaning the car. I would have this read something like: "Sorry about about all the junk, but it was a lot messier before we cleaned it out."

Words leave me again, so I give up and examine the faces in front of me. Is she like mentally challenged or something? What's up with her being so ditzy and forgetful? It's really annoying. Without even thinking, I recognize the curly, long, black hair that J.C. always covers with a toboggan. What's a toboggan? {googles} Alright I see now. Anyways, why wouldn't she recognize him? It just seems really stupid to say that she does since she's in his car that's pretty obvious that she knows him, and his hair, and his car. His equally onyx eyes look back at me in the rear view mirror. With him driving, his face is almost impossible to study, so I give up and examine his friend. That sentence sounds awkward, but I'm not quite sure how to fix it. He, too, has curly hair, but it's much shorter and dark brown instead of black. The most prominent feature of his face is a thick, brown, beard that wraps from his chin to his ears. When you say wrap there, it makes me think that his beard is like a scarf that he can take off and it wraps over his mouth and stuff. xD A funny thought, but probably not what you were aiming for. I would certainly change it. This making him look much older than he truly is. This is also an awkward sentence that I'm not sure how to fix. Re-read it by itself, and maybe you'll see what I'm talking about.

"So, you ready to go roll this stuff up?"

I almost jump when he interrupts my thoughts. I changed that because it sounded awkward. Re-read it and see if you can spot the problem, and then how I fixed it..

"Sure," I blurt out, just a bit too late.

I think about the key to me being here, and the key to me forgetting everything. Forgetting almost seems like a dream to me now. For the past two months I've done nothing but remember, and I am tired of remembering the pain. Now it's finally time to forget, forget everything.

Just then we pulled over on a dirt slab on the side of the road. I sit silently as a thought grips my mind, and then the question slips.

"So, y'all just walk out the front door, and leave when you want?"

"Pretty much," J.C. says as he switches positions in his seat. Does he get up or something? Or is he just fidgeting? It's unclear to me.

"I wish my parents didn't care what I did, or where I went," I said.

"No, you want them to care, trust me," his friend commented.

"Yea, the worst feeling in the world is when your parents look you in the eyes, and tell you that they've given up on you. The only thing you can think of is, no, why can't you believe in me?"

"I guess," I say lightly, "but my parents don't care about me, all they care about is me being perfect, and all their rules being obeyed."

"I'd rather have strict parents," J.C. said almost to himself. "Well do you have the stuff?" He asked after a slight pause filled with an awkward silence.

"Yea," I say as I search for the little bag in my purse. Soon my fingers grasp the edge of the bag, and I pull it out revealing the green substance inside. I don't think you should say substance. It ruins it for me. Slowly, I hand the bag to J.C., and he takes it and examines it carefully.

"Hm, it will do I guess."

His words worry me. Did I do something wrong? I ask myself. Soon I forget about this, and I watch him fumble around looking for the papers we need.

"Holy...I can't find them, maybe I left them at your place Clark." He doesn't seem like he would hesitate. It fits his character to swear in my opinion.

So that's his name. I make a personal note to remember this.

"Maybe," he replied indifferently.

"I guess we're going to Clark's then."

Just as I say this he starts the car.

"Yup, guess we have to."

After we go down several curvy roads we reach his house. It isn't much to look at, but it seems more like home than my empty house. Her house isn't empty. I can't tell much about it in the dark; all I can see is that it is an older trailer. I make out a dog laying on the tiny porch , and a shed sitting off to the side. Honestly, I could care less about what his house looks like. Seriously.

"OK, you wait here while we go find the papers."

"Alright," I say barely paying attention.

When they disappear I start to examine the guitar sitting beside me. It's a very simple acoustic guitar, but I know he values it more than his own life. I stroke the strings gently as I watch them reappear. When he gets back in the car, his hands are full of odds and ends.

"Will you hand me that blade sitting behind you?"

"Um, sure," I say as I carefully hand him the knife.

Now I can see what he carried out with him. A coke can, tin foil, and now the knife. I watch him cutting holes, ripping tin foil, and making little incisions in the tin foil. He catches me staring and starts to explain.

"We couldn't find the wrappers, so we are making do with what we have."

He stared at me as if looking for a reply so I quickly say, "OK."

I hear the car rumble to life again, and I feel the movement as we head back to where we began.

Gramar

,but I know I won't be here very long,

He to has curly hair,

The only think you can think of is, no, why can't you believe in me?"

"I'd rather have strict parents," J.C. said almost to himself, "well do you have the stuff," he added after a slight pause?

I am here to review like you asked, and I really wanted to read it anyway.

red - the subject of all the other colors.
Blue - General comments.
pink - grammar (taking away words, adding them, changing them, spelling, and punctuation.)
Bold - things I like.

Flower~Child wrote: Alright, the hard part is over, not should be now I just have to sit and wait. As I wait repeating the word "wait" doesn't sound good. You could say: As I bide my time ... or something like that.I examine my yard, for such a large yard Repeating "yard" doesn't sound good. Replace the second one with one. Or you could make the structure different. Even though it was huge ... there aren't many tree'take out s, but the one that we do have seems to touch the sky it is so big. Tied to one of the many branches is a large swing, and sitting in front of it my sister's slide. A field decorates the border of our property, and a shed occupies the back yard. I slip to the side of the house, and head toward the tree. Before I can reach the safety of it' take outs outstretched branches I feel the vibration of my phone in my pocket. Panic sinks in again as I pull the phone out of my pocket to answer it. I wouldn't give that much detail about her house. In a short story you are supposed to only give the most important information. Unless you use the field or shed you don't need to add those details.
"Hey," I say almost inaudibly.
"What did you say?"
"I said hey, I have to whisper." In all reality I didn't have to whisper, it just felt safer to do so.
"Oh, well we're on your road so you can start walking toward us."
Well this should be easy, I think to myself. As I start walking I see headlights in the distance.
"OK, I'm walking and I see headlights, are they yours?
"Um, yea, I think I see you."
My nerves grip at my legs for the few seconds it takes him to arrive. As soon as the car pulls up I make a quick examination. The car was clearly an older model, and the white paint needed to be redone. The back door wouldn't open from the outside, so J.C. swiftly reached his arm back and let me in. I almost fall over at seeing him again, but quickly regain myself. I climb in the car, but soon realize I will have to sit on the opposite side because of a guitar.
"Sorry," he replied automatically, Add "it was a lot messier before we cleaned it out."

Words leave me again, so You forgot a space after the comma. I added it in. I give up and examine the faces in front of me. Without even thinking I recognize the curly, long, black hair that J.C.you forgot a space after this too. always covers with a toboggan. His equally onyx eyes look back at me in the rear view mirror. With him driving his face is almost impossible to study, so I give up and examine his friend. He to has curly hair, but his is much shorter, and dark brown instead of black. The most prominent feature of his face is a thick, brown, beard that wraps from his chin to his ears. This making him look much older than he truly is.

"So, you ready to go role this stuff up?"
I almost jump at the interruption to my thoughts.
"Sure," I blurt out almost too add late.

I think about the key to me being here, and the key to me forgetting everything. Forgetting almost seems like a dream to me now. For the past two months I've done nothing but remember, and I am tired of remembering the pain. Now it's finally time to forget, forget everything.

Just then we pulled over on a dirt slab on the side of the road. I sit silently as a thought grips my mind, and then the question slips.

"So, ya'll should be y'all just walk out the front door, and leave when you want?"
"Pretty much," J.C. says as he switches positions in his seat.
"I wish my parents didn't care what I did, or where I went," I said thoughtfully.
"No, you want them to care, trust me," his friend commented.
"Yea, the worst feeling in the world is when your parents look you in the eyes, and tell you that they've given up on you. The only think you can think of is, no, why can't you believe in me?"
"I guess," add I say lightly, "but my parents don't care about me, all they care about is me being perfect, and all their rules being obeyed."
"I'd just assume? I don't get how this word works with the rest of the sentence. Maybe you were trying to say as soon. have strict parent,"add J.C. said almost to himself, "well do you have the stuff," he added? was there a pause between the first part and the last part? Give more detail. Maybe, he added after a moment.
"Yea," I say as I search for the little bag in my purse. Soon my fingers grasp the edge of the bag it, and I pull it out revealing the green substance inside. Slowly I hand the bag to JC., and he takes it and examines it carefully.

"Hm, it will do I guess."

His words worry me, did I do something wrong, I think to myself. Soon I forget about this, and I watch him fumble around looking for the wrappers.

"Holy...I can't find them,; maybe I Is this supposed to be a "l"felt them at your place Clark."

So that's his name, I mtake a personal note to remember this.

"Maybe," he replied indifferently.
"I guess we're going to Clark's add then."
Just as I say this he starts the car.
"Yup, guess we have to."

After we go down several curvy roads we reach his house. His house replace second "his house" with it. isn't much to look at, but it seems more like home than my empty house. I don't like how this sentence is constructed. More specifically how you repeat I can't tell much and all I can tell. Instead you could say something like, I can't tell much about it in the dark, but from what I can see it is an older trailer. I can't tell much about it in the dark,; all I can tell is that it is an older trailortrailer. I see hmm you just said she couldn't see very well. Maybe you could rephrase this. I can make out ... a dog running around in the yard, and a shed sitting off to the side.

"OK, you wait here while we go find the wrappers."
"Alright," I say barely paying attention.

When they disappear I start to examine the guitar sitting beside me. It's a very simple, acoustic, guitar, but I know he values it more than his own life. I stroke the strings gently as I watch them reappear. When he gets back in the car his hands are full of odds and ends.

"Will you hand me that blade sitting behind you?"
"Um, sure," I say as I carefully hand him the knife.

Now I can see what he carried out with him. A coke can, tin foil, and now he holds a knife. This would sound better: A coke can, tin foil, and now the knife. We already know he is holding it. I watch him cutting holes what is he cutting holes in? , ripping tin foil, and poking holes It sounds a bit weird to repeat the word "holes", but I am not sure what you could use instead. in the tin foil. He catches me staring and starts to explain.

"We couldn't find the wrappers, so we are making do with what we have."
He stared at me as if looking for a reply so I quickly say, "OK."

I hear the car rumble to life again, and I feel the movement as we head back to where we began.

Alright, the hard part is over, now I just have to sit and wait.

As I wait I examine my yard, for such a large yard there aren't many tree's, but the one that we do have seems to touch the sky it is so big.

and a shed occupies the back yard.

Well this should be easy, I think to myself.

"Sorry," he replied automatically, "it was a lot messier before we cleaned it out."

so I give up and examine his friend.

I blurt out almost too late.

The only thing you can think of is,

His words worry me. Did I do something wrong, I think to myself.

wrappers

I see a dog running around in the yard,

It's a very simple, acoustic, guitar,

A coke can, tin foil, and now he holds a knife.