Grey Souls

Hey! Pix here to review!

I really liked this peice. Had lots of details. Their were a couple mistakes but I think people already covered them. Overall. This is amazing. Also, I think you should break this up into paragraphs like so-

"      I sat on my bag, in the same uncomfortable way I do every lunchtime since I’ve started having lunch with Joanna, Sabrina, Aisha and Keresha. I shifted my weight, wondering what it was that also seemed to move in the front pocket of my bag, while Aisha went on about her cousin’s job as Marketing Manager of St Mary’s Banana Chips. Don’t get me wrong, I like Aisha. It’s just that she always seems to be persuading someone so badly (or so forcibly) that an adverse reaction results. Joanna had her head down on a book I couldn’t even get the title of, and Sabrina was just having lunch and doing Spanish homework. I cursed my luck for not having something to do too, though the two sheets of rolled up graph papers I had in my hands sought to remind me that still hadn’t finished my Physics lab write-up.

     I don’t remember how exactly it happened. Then again, is not that the truth with memorable events? The inability to recall what exactly had transpired before D-thing happened? I think Joanna was saying something, about the book she reading maybe. All I do know is that it was something that had us all involved, at least to an extent. We were smiling, or at least not frowning. That was when she came up to us.

     “Hey Keresha,” we chirped in different keys. She dropped her bag on the grass in the space between Sabrina d Aisha, closing our small circle. I noted mentally her lunch bag was absent, but then I quickly dismissed it. After all, it was well after 11 am, and she sometimes sat with Fiona- or was it Emily or both?- more often now for lunch. Again, most persons at this time, roughly 11:30, were almost through with lunch. Joanna, Sabrina, and Aisha, me being the only exception because the lines to the cashiers in the cafeteria were still a few persons too long for my impatient self.

     “Hey guys,” she replied. She sounded a bit upset about something. Then again, if you knew Keresha you would know her as always being displeased about someone or something. “ You know the Grade Captains are SO heartless! I left my lunch bag in the classroom and they won’t open it back so I can get it!”

     “You want to go to the front office and ask for the key?” Aisha offered. That’s Aisha for you; always with a plan and helpful. The definition of a business person. She reached out to touch Keresha’s arm. The same way she touches everyone when she is persuading them, as if in doing so, her ideas will be sure to get across.

     “No that’s okay,” Keresha’s voice broke. I looked up at the girl across from me and realized she was about to cry. Even though her almost newly cropped, black Asian hair was in her face,  and her head was almost hung, I could see waterworks starting. To be honest, I felt awkward. Scream. Shout. Hit someone or something. Or even just sit and sulk or write about your issues or afflictions. That, I can handle. Start crying, I become wistful, or awkward inside. Frustrated or annoyed even.
      “Really I can follow you,” Aisha persisted.

      “Here Keresha,” Joanna and Sabrina offered the pack of Fritos they were having together. Aisha seemed to remember then the dark-blue rapped pack of St. Mary Banana Chips she had and offered it too. Awkward.

      “It’s okay. I’ll just buy lunch,” She insisted.
An awkward yet weirdly interesting silence fell over the group. We all watched Keresha as she wiped silent tears from her eyes, open her bag countless times. She took out a book. Wrote a memo. Opened a case folder just to close it and push it back in her bag. As she wrote a memo about some Biology lab we had together next week, I made my own mental memo to ask her about it. Now would have been appropriate, not to mention selfish. TV taught me as much. As I thought how appropriate it would have been to ask Keresha about our assignment, I subtly hit Joanna with my graph papers as I saw that stupid and injuring smile she wore whenever someone got sentimental outside of a book or movie. She pulled the papers out of my hands while Keresha relieved herself of what was lying on her shoulders.
     
“It’s not even lunch. It’s more than just that.” She fumbled with her baby blue case folder.

      “It’s school on a whole.” She broke down.

      “It’s okay. Don’t stress yourself out,” Aisha comforted.

      “And also home,” no one offered any advice there and part of me who thought too much of House MD wanted to smile. Of course, I didn’t. As Keresha wiped her nose with tissue, she went on.

      “Ah goin’ to quit music. And I feel bad that Ah going to have to tell Sir that Ah quitting after Ah already started.”

     “You shouldn’t pressure yourself too much,” Joanna rushed in at an opportuned time to be helpful. “I mean, you ARE doing all the Sciences. That’s demanding already it is.”

     “Yeah,” Sabrina and Aisha chorused their agreement.

    As for me, I was silent throughout all of this. It was moments like these- though this didn’t happen often- that jolted me back to the reality of where my feet were planted. And I was not referring to the grass beneath me just then. As Keresha had said earlier, “You know when reality just catches up to you?” That one rhetorical question explained for me fully what was going on in my head. It was something that distanced me from being able to say in substantial agreement- like Aisha did.
    “I so know what you mean. That has happened to me so many times.”

It wasn’t that I’d never had to face reality. Quite the opposite; I was doing it then! It was just that my reality was so…unlike their reality that I could allow myself to empathize with Keresha. I was unable to reach above everything else. Everything else that pulled me under and made it more possible to drown, unlike the swimmer who finds it easy to rise above the surface of the water. And so in the awkward position I was, I placed my head on my knees. Motivational speakers who’ve cut out the path on which I now travel, their words filled my ears and I was compelled to encourage Keresha or just say something. But the words weighed down not just my tongue but my body to my bag and the cafeteria lawn.

    After having offer of buying her lunch for her declined, I got up and left to get myself something for lunch. I fully empathized with her feelings. So full with emotions that tears bring that she couldn’t eat. I stood in the patty line at the cafeteria, and was pleased to see, after a few minutes, Keresha and Aisha joining the line too. Maybe sometimes, you have to be grateful for Aisha’s ability to be persuasive. I was sure that was why Keresha was there. Even though Keresha chose to wait in line instead of taking the skip I offered, I was happy she was alright again."

That's easier to read. Just a tip.

~Katie.

I'm going to recopy your story, and write my opinion in CAPITAL LETTERS.

     I sat on my bag, in the same uncomfortable way I do every lunchtime since I’ve started having lunch with Joanna, Sabrina, Aisha and Keresha. I shifted my weight, wondering what it was that also seemed to move in the front pocket of my bag, while Aisha went on about her cousin’s job as Marketing Manager of St Mary’s Banana Chips. Don’t get me wrong, I like Aisha. It’s just that she always seems to be persuading someone so badly (or so forcibly) that an adverse reaction results. Joanna had her head down on a book I couldn’t even get the title of, and Sabrina was just having lunch and doing Spanish homework. I cursed my luck for not having something to do too, though the two sheets of rolled up graph papers I had in my hands sought to remind me that WRITE I HERE still hadn’t finished my Physics lab write-up.
     I don’t remember how exactly it happened. Then again, is not that the truth with memorable events? The inability to recall what exactly had transpired before D-thing happened? I think Joanna was saying something, about the book she reading maybe. All I do know is that it was something that had us all involved, at least to an extent. We were smiling, or at least not frowning. That was when she came up to us.
     “Hey Keresha,” we chirped in different keys. She dropped her bag on the grass in the space between Sabrina ANd Aisha, closing our small circle. I noted mentally her lunch bag was absent, but then I quickly dismissed it. After all, it was well after 11 am, and she sometimes sat with Fiona- or was it Emily or both?- more often now for lunch. Again, most persons at this time, roughly 11:30, were almost through with lunch. Joanna, Sabrina, and YOU SHOULD DELETE THIS AND Aisha AND, me being the only exception because the lines to the cashiers in the cafeteria were still a few persons too long for my impatient self.
     “Hey guys,” she replied. She sounded a bit upset about something. Then again, if you knew Keresha you would know her as always being displeased about someone or something. “DELETE THIS SPACE You know the Grade Captains are SO heartless! I left my lunch bag in the classroom and they won’t open it back so I can get it!”
     “You want to go to the front office and ask for the key?” Aisha offered. That’s Aisha for you; always with a plan and helpful. The definition of a business person. She reached out to touch Keresha’s arm. The same way she touches everyone when she is persuading them, as if in doing so, her ideas will be sure to get across.
     “No that’s okay,” Keresha’s voice broke. I looked up at the girl across from me and realized she was about to cry. Even though her almost newly cropped, black Asian hair was in her face,  and her head was almost hung, I could see waterworks starting. To be honest, I felt awkward. Scream. Shout. Hit someone or something. Or even just sit and sulk or write about your issues or afflictions. That, I can handle. Start crying, I become wistful, or awkward inside. Frustrated or annoyed even.
      “Really I can follow you,” Aisha persisted.
      “Here WRITE A COMMA HERE Keresha,” Joanna and Sabrina offered the pack of Fritos they were having together. Aisha seemed to remember then the dark-blue rapped pack of St. Mary Banana Chips she had COMMA and offered it too. Awkward.
      “It’s okay. I’ll just buy lunch,” She insisted.
An awkward yet weirdly interesting silence fell over the group. We all watched Keresha as she wiped silent tears from her eyes, open her bag countless times. She took out a book. Wrote a memo. Opened a case folder just to close it COMMA and push it back in her bag. As she wrote a memo about some Biology lab we had together next week, I made my own mental memo to ask her about it. Now would have been appropriate, not to mention selfish. TV taught me as much. As I thought how appropriate it would have been to ask Keresha about our assignment, I subtly hit Joanna with my graph papers as I saw that stupid and injuring smile she wore whenever someone got sentimental outside of a book or movie. She pulled the papers out of my hands while Keresha relieved herself of what was lying on her shoulders.
      “It’s not even lunch. It’s more than just that.” She fumbled with her baby blue case folder.
      “It’s school on a whole.” She broke down.
      “It’s okay. Don’t stress yourself out,” Aisha comforted.
      “And also home,” no one offered any advice there and part of me who thought too much of House MD wanted to smile. Of course, I didn’t. As Keresha wiped her nose with tissue, she went on.
      “Ah goin’ to quit music. And I feel bad that Ah going to have to tell Sir that Ah quitting after Ah already started.”
     “You shouldn’t pressure yourself too much,” Joanna rushed in at an opportuned time to be helpful. “I mean, you ARE doing all the Sciences. That’s demanding already COMMA it is.”
     “Yeah,” Sabrina and Aisha chorused their agreement.
    As for me, I was silent throughout all of this. It was moments like these- though this didn’t happen often- that jolted me back to the reality of where my feet were planted. And I was not referring to the grass beneath me just then. As Keresha had said earlier, “You know when reality just catches up to you?” That one rhetorical question explained for me fully what was going on in my head. It was something that distanced me from being able to say in substantial agreement- like Aisha did.
    “I so know what you mean. That has happened to me so many times.”
It wasn’t that I’d never had to face reality. Quite the opposite; I was doing it then! It was just that my reality was so…unlike their reality that I could allow myself to empathize with Keresha. I was unable to reach above everything else. Everything else that pulled me under and made it more possible to drown, unlike the swimmer who finds it easy to rise above the surface of the water. And so in the awkward position I was, I placed my head on my knees. Motivational speakers who’ve cut out the path on which I now travel, their words filled my ears and I was compelled to encourage Keresha or just say something. But the words weighed down not just my tongue but my body to my bag and the cafeteria lawn.
    After having offer of buying her lunch for her declined, I got up and left to get myself something for lunch. I fully empathized with her feelings. So full with emotions that tears bring that she couldn’t eat. I stood in the patty line at the cafeteria, and was pleased to see, after a few minutes, Keresha and Aisha joining the line too. Maybe sometimes, you have to be grateful for Aisha’s ability to be persuasive. I was sure that was why Keresha was there. Even though Keresha chose to wait in line instead of taking the skip I offered, I was happy she was alright again.
IT IS VERY GOOD, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WOTH THE TITLE.
I THINK YOU COULD ALSO DESCRIBE THE NARRATOR, OR TELL US HER NAME.
~Lili

Hmmm...
I found this a bit boring. Sorry. I wasn't quite sure what exactly you were trying to put across.
The title interested me but then there was nothing about it throughout the piece of wor,.
I don't understand why the narrator can't say anything to help Keresha, or why she really cares about the girls somewhat petty problems in the first place. Or, if she even cares...
Your writing style is good even if your grammar is not always flawless, but I feel you have wasted yourself somewhat on this plot line.