buttercup

the start

" ... but  as my heart seems to fade ,

I wish someone was to aid 

For this will never weep nor pray I won't love, ever again. "

As I finished presenting the class went silent. I went straight back to my seat and sat. Mr. Morgan broke the silence with a chuckle. "Not bad Kady, never knew you had a thing for romance." he chuckled as did the whole class. I didn't react to it I kind of just sat down and listened for the next person to present. This was English class, with a theme of : Romance in a poetry. It was kind of cheesy at first but when you kind of put yourself into a poem, the poem becomes you and it's up to the world to accept or hate you. 

The bell rang and this time it was the next class. I got up and as I was going out I heard Mr. Morgan called me out. I stopped to his desk and he handed me a paper. My poem. 

"Can I ask you something?"he asked. It's about the poem.  '"Yes sir?" he sighed and I looked at him. "It's about your poem." Bingo, he likes it. "What title would you name this piece?" Oh he's expecting me to say a cheesy title like "Hurt" or "Broken" . " I thought you'd give it a name of something unfortunate like "Hurt or something like-" I cut him off. "Buttercup. I'll name that Buttercup." I smiled at him and he looks confused yet smiled at me. He was wearing this white long sleeved polo and black pants, his hair was black and sweat ran down through his forehead. I chuckled a bit, and bid goodbye. I can hear his thoughts. "Odd one. Yet creative."  I can hear them. As I went out of the room the usual noise was up but my head was noisier. People's thoughts are coming in and out of my head. It was uncomfortable yet I try to stay put.

Ever since I was a kid I kept hearing noises in my head, I never thought that they were the inner thoughts or even desires. I really thought that I can be some super hero or something, but it turns out these echoes can also do harm not only to the surroundings but to my well being as well. But it was really special, I did not know if there are more people like me, but I guess its really rare to find one.

The couple in the corner the girl wearing a pink top and white skirt, hair blonde and chewing gum, she's cheating with three to five guys while talking to his third boyfriend giving him some hint she wants to make out later on. The boy on my right wants to ask his crush out, he already prepared the flowers all he needs is a little confidence. I smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up, he smiled back. The next thing I saw was the football team, and the head captain was gay.

I walked calmly to my next class. "Brauelle is here!" Exclaimed through my head and the next thing I saw was Lily. She walked next to me and tapped my shoulder. "Brauelle!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, its you." I replied and continued walking, she comes along. "Guess were in the next class then huh?" I nodded. She kept on talking and I just replied bits to her. Lily really had pretty eyes, ocean blue and black hair, it really matched her personality, she was cheerful and outgoing. Except what she's wearing is the complete opposite. She had checkered skirt and some patterned top and a text that said all over the shirt " I am me." and she wore this black bonnet and flats. Even though I'm a boy, she's a total disaster but I just shrugged it off, she was cool.

We sat together in Science class and to be honest she was really helping me out on this biology class, I was just sitting there being bored and all. I kept hearing things like

"Lily is so hot, who the f**k is the d****e?" 

" I wish I could sit next to Lily."

"This is so boring."

"Why was Science ever invented I mean, come on."

"Is water even wet?"

I was dumbfounded hearing those thoughts. I never really knew Lily was popular with the boys her fashion sense was a ruin. All the noise in my head stopped when the rain started. That's weird, I never had the chance to silence my brain and it got me thinking. Is the rain pouring backwards? Aren't the drops a bit slow than usual? My thoughts dropped when I heard something, or someone. 

"Psst. Psst." I turned back and I saw a girl. Black hair and pretty funny nose. She had this emo make up but pink lips, green eyes but dark clothes. As I looked closer, her hair was a mixture of black and red but the black overpowered the red one. She smiled at me. Lily turned her back too and she smirked at both of us. 

"Hey, can you guys tell me what kind of plant is this?" She pointed out something from the book, she painted her nails back. Funny I thought. "Oh that's an aloe vera, have you never seen one?" Lily asked. She chuckled covering her nose "Oh right! I forgot what they were called, thanks Lily." 

Lily and I turned back in front as I noticed something was completely off. "What the fu--" I mouthed. Who is she? Where did she come from? Did Lily know her? When did she arrive? Does she even go here? The thing that really bugged me off was the fact that-

I can't read her mind.

Reviews

[JayG]

Okay, you hooked me. And I say that almost never on these forums. Well done. It's rough, and you're missing craft, but the presentation draws the reader into the moment the protagonist calls now, and makes the reader know the protagonist's world as he does. Almost no one on this site does that.

Some suggestions:

1. A new speaker is a new subject, and so requires a new paragraph.
2. Squeeze the prose, and watch for unwanted implications, because there are unnecessary words and some confusing constructs.

Some examples:

• As I finished presenting the class went silent.

Without a comma after "presenting," your protagonist just presented a class, not a report. You also just told the reader that the class was noisy during the presentation and silenced when it stopped. Not what you meant, but it is what you said.

• I went straight back to my seat and sat.

What else would he do if he want back to his seat? And do we care if he want straight back or walked around around the desks? How about if we combine the first and second sentences into:
- - -
"My classmates were silent as I walked back to my seat. Not encouraging, but they seemed to have paid attention to the poem, which was a good sign."
- - - -
I added the second sentence to make him seem real. He has to be wondering how the poem was received. And by having him wonder we tell the reader that it was something he cares about, and what he'd done. That makes the reader want to know more.

• "Not bad Kady, never knew you had a thing for romance." he chuckled as did the whole class.

Use "Mr. Kady," and we know his gender early. And: He chuckles first. Doing it again detracts. I's suggest deleting the first one, or replacing it with, "There was a smile in Mr. Morgan's voice as he said,..."

• I didn't react to it I kind of just sat down and listened for the next person to present.

Wordy. You might say, "Instead of responding, I waited for him to call the next student," Twelve words read faster than nineteen, and so have more impact. Or, you could dress it up a bit to show state of mind and develop character with something like, "I didn't respond because it was a loaded question, and anything I said would sound stupid. Instead I gave him a 'Give me a break look' and a head-shake, then waited for him to call up the next student.

That's not your character or story, just a quick parallel, to show how you can develop character as enrichment to necessary lines. In this case we learn that the character is smart enough to see the trap. His response shows how he handles that kind of thing. Your character might handle it differently.

• The bell rang and this time it was the next class.

You're WAY over-explaining. Show, don't tell: "The bell rang and I closed my notebook." In eight words the character in that classroom reacted. In the original, in eleven the narrator, someone not in that classroom explained. The narrator should be in service to what's happening in the room, not recalling it. The article below is a condensation of a great way of placing the reader into the protagonist's persona.
http://www.advancedfictionwriting.com/art/scene.php

Play with it till it makes sense. If it seems like following up on, pick up the book it was condensed from. It's the best I've found.

• I got up and as I was going out I heard Mr. Morgan called me out.

This line is a perfect example of what I just mentioned.

First, you're thinking cinematically, and explaining visual detail—what YOU see happening. But if it takes longer for me to read about him doing something than to do it in the real-world, the story drags. Remember, knowing that he stood is NOT the same as watching it. And if you place him in motion, won't he have had to stand?

Next. The word "heard" can only come from the narrator. It is your protagonist's story, after all. So let him hear it and react. Again, show, don't tell. That becomes more meaningful when you realize that what's being shown is his viewpoint, not the visuals our medium can't reproduce.

There is a class of words that writers call filter, or crutch words that will distance the reader from the protagonist because they come only from the narrator. This article lists a few:
http://writeitsideways.com/are-these-filter-words-weakening-your-fiction/

To that list I would add a few: "Was" other then in dialog."Knew." Statements like "the fact that..." and "other than." "Would." "There were" "had," as in, "I had been..."

As part of my editing I do a search for each of those words, and for each, ask myself if it's necessary, or can be rephrased more actively.

• he sighed and I looked at him.

Isn't it assumed that when the teacher calls you to him you look at him? 🙄

Obviously, I could go on, and be editing. but you get the idea. So edit and squeeze. Add a bit more personality without having the protagonist stop to lecture the reader.

One final example:

• I turned back and I saw a girl. Black hair and pretty funny nose.

This is a report. And because it is, it's dispassionate and lacks emotion. Ans without hearing the tine the words were spoken in a "funny nose" is just that, laughable.

Here's an example of what I mean. In this scene from Kiss of Death, the protagonist is captured by his first look at this girl, and falls desperately in love. In this case, I needed to retain a "telling?" feel, because this is a story that the grown up protagonist is relating to his doctor. But at the same time, I needed to make it real, rather then telling the reader what they would see were they in that band room, so I had him focus on his reactions in the moment he called now:
- - - - -
Then one day, a month after I turned fifteen, and right after regular classes, an angel came through the door of the band room.

Unlike most students, who rush for the exit the second the bell rings, the music program kids tended to hang out in the music complex until they threw us out. To us the music rooms were a second home, where we came to practice, socialize, or just kill time. I was standing at the blackboard trying to come up with a word that rhymed with flatulence—writing a poem about the Tuba player—when a voice behind me said, “Excuse, please. I am looking for bandmaster?” She said “looking” as though it was spelled luke-ing.

I turned, with “Vat you vant?” on my tongue, assuming it was one of the girls from the band, and willing to play their game. But when I turned I discovered the single most arresting face in the universe only a few inches away from mine.

I’m not sure I can convey the effect she had on me in meaningful terms since I felt her appearance as well as saw it—felt it as a hard punch to the chest.

For hair this angel had wings of glossy black, falling in what a writer would label a silken cascade that demanded my hand reach out to stroke it.

I didn’t though, because that magnificent hair served to guide my eye to a face that defined the term, exotic. Pale, almost luminous skin, touched gently at the cheeks with rose, and so smooth as to appear to be virtually without pores, covered cheekbones that drew accent marks across perfect cheeks.

But that was no more than a frame, and I found myself drowning in a pair of eyes that can best be described as coming straight from an illustration out of The Arabian Nights. Huge and softly brown, with pupils of liquid darkness, those eyes literally impaled me and rendered me unable to speak, to move, or even breathe. She had such a profound effect on me that the chalk slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor. That brought me back to life.

“I— What?”

“You tell me where is bandmaster?”

“Uhh, the bandmaster? Oh, you mean Mr. Grafton.” Normally I’d have pointed the way to his office, but I wasn’t going to do anything that moved her one inch further from my side—ever. I guess it seems, given that this kind of thing happened before, that I’m attracted to the physical aspect where women are concerned. And I suppose that might be true, if by physical you mean her appearance, in general, rather than the usual attention to sexual characteristics. She had a magnificent body. But that was a later discovery. As yet I hadn’t gotten past her eyes—and her hair, and cheeks—but you know what I mean.
- - - - - -
See how much more it comes across as an emotional experience that way? That book I suggested is filled with hints and tricks on how do do that, and well worth a very slow reading, with lots of time spent practicing each point to make it yours.

Hang in there, and keep on writing.
https://jaygreenstein.wordpress.com/category/the-craft-of-writing/

[Aya]

Thank you so much for this. Hahaha English isn't my first language after all but you can tell. I'll use your techniques in the next chapter and hopefully to see other people like you review on a normie like me hahaha

[Onlyme]

Excellent drew you in and keep your attention from start to finish. Engrossing, And wonderful written. Looking forward to reading more from you.