Imogen had bounded up at that moment and asked me to introduce her. I looked at her trying to emphasise the fact that I wanted to be alone with him.
She didn't take the hint.
"I'm Imogen." She laughed kising his cheek.
His attention snapped to her and I faded out. Dissolved. Vanished from his thoughts.
Imogen had that effect on everyone.
At the festival I managed to get rid of my twinge of jealousy towards Imogen. After all, she wasn't interested in boys.... right?
I soon livened up a bit with the help of a few martinins.
As I was getting on down with some local boys, Owen appeared from nowhere and joined in with the dancing.
My eyes lingered on his unbuttoned shirt which revealed his toned stomach.
He got closer... standing face to face I forgot about the other boys by my side... all that mattered was Owen... his hand reached for my waist... he pulled me towards him... his hand stroked my silk dress and made me burn up... he brought his face down to mine and when he kissed me I felt as if there were fireworks exploding in my stomach.
But then... Imogen shimmied up to him in her black corset and tight leather trousers and his hands left my body and attached themselves to her. His lips still moist from our encounter touched Imogen's and with that I stormed back to the hostel and packed my things.
As I was on the motorway just outside Reading I realised I had left my house keys at the hostel with Imogen's belongings and I made a very fast U turn and sped back towards the hostel.
When I had parked the car badly on the pavement, I stormed inside and up the stairs to our room... I reached for the door handle... swung the door open to find... Imogen and Owen in bed together.
I stood there rooted to the ground. Like a deer in the road, and like a wounded animal I sobbed, grabbed my house keys and turned on my heel to make an exit.
This wasn't right! She had always been interested in girls... why the sudden change?
Surprisingly, Imogen follwed me into the cool night and stood with as much dignity as she could in a towel wrapped around her to protect her modesty.
"Cady!" She screamed after me as I threw my Mazda's door open in a rage.
I kick started the engine and screeched up the road.
My eyes blurred with tears... I'm surprised I made it home at all..........
I woke up shaking. Again. The dream. Reliving the nightmare. It made me sick to the stomach.
So why did I let him manipulate me?
He could have had me that night last year at the festival but instead he toyed with my feelings, led me on, teased me, kissed me and then slept with Imogen.
I pulled myself off of the bed and sat down infront of my mirror.
Why had I let him control me like this?
And why did I still feel I had to give him a chance to prove himself?
I shook my head.
I just didn't know what to do.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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125,020 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
Ooh! More conflict!
This section was good, although short, so there's only one comment:
- I take it Cady's not from England, she's from America (hence the name), which is a problem in first person because you've carried over the English vernacular. Here are some substitutions to make it more realistic...
TROUSERS= PANTS
MOTORWAY= ROAD/HIGHWAY
PARASOL= UMBRELLA
CLINCH= I'm guessing is...French kiss? Hmm. Georgia Nicolson's glossary fails me on this one.
so helpful, thanks! I'll try to find the time to work on it!
The excess ellipsis, Though interesting, is very unneeded. Use a period
From Wikipedia: That's the exact usage of it. Here Is where I found that info, I'm not sure of the literary use of the ellipsis though... (look! there's one! See, I have no idea how to use it either.)
control my life?
Well now, good job! I only have two things to comment on. 1. How old are these girls? I was swung by them drinking alcohol, although I can also tell its not America
And two, like I said last time with the three parts, how does this all fall together. what really happened between our main Character and Owen that causes this much trouble? Because if he's just some guy, it shouldn't be more than semi heartbreak. But was there more? That's something to think about. I like your style, its girlish. I think in part 1 the emotion was better displayed than in part 2. The anger we saw through her throwing open the car door and screeching up the road, but in part 1 it was all words and feelings and it was so good to read! Maybe you could try for that again?
Hope you like my critiques