NSP: Chapter One - Epiphany

Not So Private, Chapter One

 

Today isn’t the best time in my life to start writing again. Mom is still in the hospital, and it’s still costing us a fortune. She needs to stop being a Prima Donna, and get over herself. She’s been in there for four months! It was a broken leg, not a car crash, and she’s acting like she’s terminally ill! And to add insult to injury, she still says I’m grounded! She says Mitchell’s party was the first and last party I’m going to. Period. I cannot miss Lacey’s party though. She already thinks we hate her. If Veronica and everyone else go, It’ll seem like I don’t feel bad about what we did to her. Okay, so either someone just broke into my house, and shut the door behind them or my dad is home. Let’s just hope it’s my dad.

 

XOXO,

-Corrine

 

 

            Corrine sighed, closing her diary gently. She cupped her face with her hands, quickly wiping her face. "Ugh, mother, you just love to ruin everyone’s life, don’t you?" she rhetorically asked herself. Standing up, Corrine pushed her chair in. ‘You’re cleaning up something before you eat dinner, loser’ she said to herself. Corrine faced her window, choosing that area to tackle first. She moved to that side, but quickly turned around. "I’ll need a basket and trash bag first." She mumbled to herself. Returning, she grabbed at the heaps of clothes that lay on her loveseat.

"Corrine, are you coming down for dinner?" Her father called from downstairs. "Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute!" She yelled back.

             She moved through the laundry, checking each pocket before dropping into the basket. "Nothing… nothing… nothing," she repeated constantly. "Nothing… nothing… noth-something!" She noted. She grabbed the folded paper, and tossed it on the bed. Minutes later, she finished with the laundry. Corrine hopped on the bed, and began to open the note. "Oh, no wonder I don’t know what this is," she laughed to herself. The author of this note was Gregory, someone she really didn’t like.

           Corrine wasn’t the type of person to tell anyone that she didn’t like him or her, and Gregory was no exception. She opened the note, cutting her finger in the process.

I know we’re not the best of friends, but I’d like to think we were at least acquaintances. Anyway, I’d like to know if you’re going to Mitchell’s party. He said it’s a couple party, and I have no one to take. I also know you don’t have a date, and I’d like to know if you would like to go with me. I’m bringing a special surprise, and I’d like you to see it before everyone else. If you don’t want to go with me, that’s cool, I just thought I’d ask.

 

 

 

             Corrine backtracked in her mind, the possible date that he gave this to her. It was somewhere between the tenth and fifteenth of August. Moments later and light bulb went off. "He’s the one who brought the…" She thought aloud. She finally realized that Gregory was the one who brought the drugs to the party. Her eyes widened, thinking of what her friends would think. Corrine made her way down the stairs, thinking nothing except the gossip she had to tell her friends.

Author's Note

Constructive criticism, please, :D

Reviews

[syrus]

nice story

[Bright Eyes]

This seems to have an interesting story behind it. I think that if you just tweaked a few things, it would be all the more appealing.

To start, as I read, I noticed you have a pretty consistent subject-verb-(prepositional phrase, adverb, etc.) This doesn't really captivate most readers. Try adding more descriptive language; that could really help a piece be enthralling.

There was one grammatical error I saw-'"Corrine, are you coming down for dinner?" Her father called from downstairs. "Yeah, I'll be down in a minute!" She yelled back."
When changing speakers, you should start a new paragraph.

I'd like to know a little more about what's going on in Corrine's head. What is she thinking? How does her thought process work? This can give a lot of insight as to who the character is, what they are like.

This is a good piece, welcome to writerscafe!