First-Person Narration: Rei.

This is the story I'm using for my second written exam in my writing course. It took me WEEKS to even get started. X.x Word limit: 1000-1500. Total words: 1439.

Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has a song to sing. Usually they aren’t looking for sympathies or condolences. Usually they just want the world to hear their stories. Their fifteen minutes of fame, so to speak. This is mine.

I was born in the picturesque city of Sherbrooke to Elliott and Jane Thompson. Up until I was 5, I enjoyed being the only child, the spoiled one, the baby. When the twins Sierra and Sienna were born, I embraced the role of big brother by spoiling them, doting on them hand and foot and treating them like my own personal real life dolls. When Kamryn, the third of my younger sisters was born, the twins were shoved into a dark corner of my life and Kamryn became my new real life doll. When the fourth, Jenna was born, I was 13. I didn’t really care for having another sister; I was too caught up becoming a teenager.

 My mom was the most loving mother one could ever ask for. At least, she was to my sisters. Because I was a little bit different than most boys my age, she refused to pay me much attention. My dad was a truck driver. He drove shipments straight across Canada for some big local companies. We were all pretty used to living without him for months on end while he was working. It didn’t bother us much seeing as we knew we’d see him again soon. When he was home, he and mom would spend a night alone. By the time a few months had passed and dad had another job, mom would be pregnant again.

To this day I still haven’t figured out what he saw in her. She was the devil in disguise. Least, to me she was. My dad was an angel sent from heaven. This sounds weird coming from a grown man, but he really was. He was my guiding light; he taught me what it meant to be proud of who I am. He taught me not to be ashamed of the fact that I was gay, but to embrace it! I think that’s why I took it so hard when he told me he was heading out that hot August afternoon. I remember watching him as he packed his large suitcase that he used on the road. I also remember mom unceremoniously shooing me from the room because she wanted her alone time with him before he left. A couple hours later when he came out to his truck to leave, I wouldn’t let him. I sat in the cab and wouldn’t budge. Of course, mom yelled at me to move. I wouldn’t. Dad just climbed in, shoved me gently across the seat and started the truck. At first I didn’t know what to think. Was I going on the trip with him? What was he doing? What was going on?

I guess it was foolish of me to think I’d actually be traveling across the country with my dad in his truck right before the school year was going to start. But, you’ve got to understand just how much I loved my dad, and just how much I hated being the only guy home with 4 younger sisters and a hormonal mother.

During those few months dad was gone, I went through every change possible for a boy moving into his teenage years. Puberty hit, I noticed guys more and I had my first kiss. That was something I wanted my dad around for. I needed advice and there was no way my mom would help me. November of that year, my dad came home early. His run had been cancelled and instead of taking another job, he came home to spend a good long time with his family. It was during this time that the boy who had been my first kiss asked me out. It was also during this time that I came out to my dad. He told me he’s known since I was 5. He also told me that as long as I was safe in whatever I did, he didn’t mind me liking guys. He stayed home for a long time after that. I think he figured his now teenage son needed him more than he thought.

The October after I turned 15, he left again. He wasn’t heading all the way to the west coast this time, just a couple of provinces west to Manitoba. But, he’d still be gone a couple of months. November flew by with nothing interesting happening. Mom was 6 months pregnant with her sixth child and the girls were whining about Christmas gifts. I had a bad feeling this December would suck. It was one of those gut feelings that cause you to believe something bad was going to happen. I didn’t know what or when, but it sure was a nagging feeling. 

My dad called on the 23^rd and informed us he was on his way home. He was in Ontario and would be home in the early hours of the 24^th. Mom told him he’d probably be better to wait in Toronto, seeing as a huge blizzard was raging through southern Quebec right then, but dad wouldn’t listen. He said he’d come straight on the highway and not stop until he pulled into the driveway. Then each of my sisters took the phone and chatted with him for a few minutes. When it was my turn, all I could say was “Dad, my sisters are driving me crazy! Hurry home, please!” If I had known that was the last time I’d ever speak to him, I would have told him something a little more compassionate and loving. Instead, I complained.

The phone rang early on the 24^th, before any of us kids were awake. When I came down later in the morning, mom was sitting on the couch crying loudly. Kamryn was sitting beside her with teary eyes and Jenna was playing on the floor. The twins, with their arms around each other in tight comforting hugs were sitting together in a big arm chair watching TV. The moment I walked into the living room and inquired about the sombre mood, Kamryn tackled me and started crying something about dad being dead. I looked at my mom fast and I could see the rare beauty in her. Her mascara tear streaks down her cheeks made her look vulnerable; nothing like the mom I thought I knew. She told me to sit beside her and proceeded to dish the news I didn’t want to believe. My dad was dead. The only man who accepted me for me, the only man loved me unconditionally even though I was different, the man who promised me the night before that he'd be here when I woke up in the morning was dead. His truck hit black ice on the highway. He lost control and the truck rolled into the ditch. He was killed instantly.

Christmas is supposed to mean a time of birth. The birth of Jesus, but to me it’s a dark day; a day of death. It’s the day a large chunk of me died.

Three years later, my mom took the coward's way out and drank herself to death. By then, I was 18 so I filed for custody of my sisters. I became like a dad to them, raising them as my dad would have. I made sure they grew up knowing and loving him.

I never knew the pain of losing someone you loved more than life itself until I lost my dad. I didn’t know what it was like to hurt so badly and not know how to relieve it. But, I learned to cope; I learned that it was okay to grieve. Though, my real lesson was when my mom died. I learned how to truly love my sisters. I learned what responsibility meant and I’m sure I wouldn’t have learned it without her. So, I guess I can’t say she was a horrible mom. She did teach me a valuable lesson and for that I will be eternally grateful. 

Maybe you’ve heard about me before, maybe you haven’t. My name is Rei Elliott Thompson and you’ve just had a rare look into my past. It’s not glamorous, it’s not movie worthy, it’s not even book worthy. But it’s mine. And although I’ve learned lessons from the past, I won’t let it define who I become. My past is important to me but I live for this moment right now. And who knows, maybe talking about my past will help someone else. There’s a lot more to be told but to tell it all would take hours. So, I’ll end it here and hope that you come back to hear the rest one day. 

Author's Note

Just a little side note... I left quite a bit of the character's story out... just because this particular assignment had a word limit of 1000 - 1500. It's 1474. I can't add too much more to it... or it'll be too much and I'll lose marks. I WILL however do a rewrite and add in EVERYTHING people want to see... So keep the reviews coming. I want this character to become loved or hated by EVERYONE! :D OH! And there's no dialog for a reason. I had to use First-person or third-person with limited dialog. The reasoning for this assignment was to get a feel for POVs.

Reviews

[Trip]

The paragraphing isn't a noticeable problem except for that mighty third paragraph (rawwwrrr monster paragraph). There is a natural break in there - look closely and I trust you'll find it :)

I'd like to extend a challenge to you: show me this characters life, don't tell me about it. You've organically found some great moments in this narration. Sitting in the cab of his dad's truck, crying his eyes out. That's a huge moment in life and I want to FEEL every heart-wrenching second of it. Make me understand the hurt of having a father figure out on the road, away from home for months at a time.

I liked the idea of this young boy having living dolls. Spend more time talking about that, and do it through showing me a particularly memorable experience. This is his 15 minutes of fame, pack it full with the emotion and detail that will make it something people want to hear.

His sister tackling him when he comes down on the morning of his father's death could be great. Is this sister particularly rambunctious? Is she not? Is he angry when she pounces on him? This is the type of moment that deserves more than a sentence and that an entire scene can be built around.
Enrich some of these moments - that's where the emotion will come from in your writing.

I think dialog could really spruce this up. It's a necessity, really. None of these characters have a voice. The father, who told the narrator it was alright to be different, never said a word in your story! Some of the most powerful moments come not from what is done, but what is said, and we're missing that.

You've got a powerful story arc here, just make sure you're focusing on the important stuff. The stuff that will make us cry with the narrator, not think, "huh, that is a kind of sad thing to happen."

Keep going with it, I can't wait to see where you take it!