More Help For My Story, Please!

Can you help me more on my story for school? Any ideas on how I can make her a part of the garden and show that she’s a bully without the taxi scene? And how to make her soften more?

© Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved.

I crossed the street, my school bag slung over my shoulder, the contents–my insulin and water, plus some school books–heavy, a slight lilt to my step warning people to stay away. I could feel my dark ponytail hitting my shoulder blades.

I was just about to step onto the sidewalk when a taxi stopped a foot away from me. My heart stopped; my breath quickened. Before the driver could react, I beat my hand on the window, screaming curses.

“Apologies,” the black man mumbled as he rolled down his window, quickly rolling it up again.

He sped off the street, and I angrily spat on the ground. I wasn’t going to just let him go. I sprinted after the cab, my legs pumping in the hot air, sweat already dripping down my legs. I soon caught up to the taxi and resumed cussing him out. The man wasn’t fazed.

The taxi came to a screeching halt on a street I didn’t know, next to an abandoned lot. Trash lined the edges, but most was cleared away. People bent, their hands in dirt.

Dirt. Ew. I hated the feeling of dirt under my fingernails and it covering my palms.

The black man in the taxi ran out, and I raced after him, screaming how he almost killed me and he should be a safer driver and I’m gonna call the cops. But he ignored me.

A few people glanced up as we ran past, but I scowled at them and they looked back down to their plants.

The man quickly grabbed lettuce up out of the ground, shoving it into a bucket full of water. As he was bending down, I snagged his elbow, steering him to face me. Just as I was about to reprimand him, he wrenched himself free and ran back to his taxi. He sped off before I could react.

I was still pissed at him; I glared at the cab till it disappeared.

Then I realized I was still in the lot. The street sign on the corner told me a name I wasn’t familiar with. Perspiration dripped from my arms. I thought about retracing my steps.

And then I saw her.

She was crouched, her black hair hanging in front of her face so I almost couldn’t see her. She was watering a small plant, her hands digging into the ground. Her sneakers were muddy, her long sleeves pulled up.

I immediately remembered two years ago, when I had teased her. Her eyes were different: almond-shaped and only a shade lighter than her hair, which was raven black. But it wasn’t just how she looked; it was her demeanor. She had been quiet and timid, constantly crying and wiping her nose. I had picked at whatever I could.

But what pained me most was that she could have teased me, too, and others did. The insulin I had to carry around, the greens I ate and how I always denied sweets.

Yet she hadn’t. She had just bowed her head, tears dripping down her cheeks, and crawled away.

Kim.

Maybe she forgot.

“Um, hi,” I said to her.

She didn’t look up.

“Kim?” I tried.

Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe it was just a girl who looked like her.

This time she looked up, her eyes widening in fear. Quickly, she looked away and resumed watering her plant.

“Kim,” I said again.

“Go away, Koko,” she stated, her voice just above a whisper.

“Kim, I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Go. Okay? Go, Koko. I can’t talk to you!”

I stood my ground, my hands clenching into fists. I planted myself, like a strong tree. Kim stood up, the cup she poured water from in her hand. She ran off, leaving me.

A man came up to me.

“Hello,” he said, extending his white hand. “I’m Sam. Welcome to the garden.”

I wiped my hand on my pants and shook his politely. Sam’s hand was sweaty, too.

“I’m lost,” I told him. “I followed the cabbie here, and…well, yeah.”

Sam nodded. “You’re not lost anymore.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handful of seeds. “Extras,” he informed me. “They’re flowers. Plant them. Next to the girl’s.”

He saw the whole thing, I realized, and blushed. He saw me trying to talk to Kim, saw her run away, scared.

I took the seeds. Sam brought me a cup of water. I dug into the dirt, not me grossed out anymore. I planted the seeds, and covered them with dirt, and watered them.

Sam smiled when I finished, like a proud father or uncle.

“Come back tomorrow,” he urged me.

“I’ll see if I can,” was my response.

I wanted to. I wanted to see Kim, and show her that I wasn’t all bully.

That I was human, too.    

All advice is appreciated!

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Story For School: Koko

Koko

I knew what it felt like to near death. To have your heart stop, to feel your breath quicken. I hadn’t been held at gunpoint or felt the point of a knife digging into my neck. My life wasn’t half exciting as that.

I crossed the street, my school bag slung over my shoulder, the contents–my insulin and water, plus some school books–heavy, a slight lilt to my step warning anyone not to cross me. I could feel my dark ponytail hitting my shoulder blades. I was just about to step onto the sidewalk when a taxi stopped at a screeching halt, a foot away from me. My heart stopped; my breath quickened. Before he could react, I beat my hand on the window, screaming curses.

“Apologies, ma’am,” the black man mumbled as he rolled down his window, quickly rolling it up again.

He sped off the street, and I was so angry I could spit. I sprinted after the cab, my legs pumping in the hot air, sweat already dripping down my legs. Athletic as I was, I soon caught up to the taxi and resumed cussing him out. The man wasn’t fazed.

The taxi came to a screeching halt on a street I didn’t know, next to a lot. Trash lined the edges, but most was cleared away. People bent, their hands in dirt.

Ew. I never liked to get my hands dirty.

The black man in the taxi ran out, and I raced after him, screaming how he almost killed me and he should be a safer driver and I’m gonna call the cops. But he ignored me.

A few people glanced up as we ran past, but I scowled at them and they looked back down to their plants. The man quickly grabbed lettuce up out of the ground, shoving it into a bucket full of water and ran back to his taxi, leaving tire marks on the road.

I was still pissed at him. I glared at the cab till it disappeared.

Then I realized I was still in the lot. The street sign on the corner told me a name I wasn’t familiar with. Perspiration dripped from my arms. I thought about retracing my steps.

And then I saw her.

She was crouched, her black hair hanging in front of her face so I almost couldn’t see her. She was watering a small plant, her hands digging into the ground. Her sneakers were muddy, her long sleeves pulled up.

I immediately remembered two years ago, when I had teased her. She looked different: almond-shaped eyes, black hair, short. She was quiet and timid, constantly crying and wiping her nose. I picked at whatever I could.

But what pained me most was that she could have teased me, too, and others did. The insulin I had to carry around, the greens I ate and how I always denied sweets. Yet she didn’t. She just bowed her head, tears dripping down her cheeks, and crawled away.

Maybe she forgot.

“Um, hi,” I said to her.

She didn’t look up.

“Kim?” I tried.

Maybe it wasn’t her. Maybe it was just a girl who looked like her.

This time she looked up, her eyes widening in fear. Quickly, she looked away and resumed watering her plant.

“Kim,” I said again.

“Yes,” she answered this time, “my name is Kim.” That voice was strong. Now it broke. “Please, just go–go away.”

“Kim, I won’t hurt you, I promise.”

“Go. Okay? Go, Koko. I can’t talk to you!”

I showed no sign of leaving. Kim knew this, and stood up, the cup she poured water from in her hand. She ran off, leaving me.

A man came up to me.

“Hello,” he said, extending his white hand. “I’m Sam. Welcome to the garden.”

I wiped my hand on my pants and shook his politely. I might seem like a tough bully, but everyone needs to have some manners. Sam’s hand was sweaty, too.

“I’m lost,” I told him. “I followed the cabbie here, and…well, yeah.”

Sam nodded. “”You’re not lost anymore.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a handful of seeds. “Extras,” he informed me. “They’re flowers. Plant them. Next to the girl’s.”

He saw the whole thing, I realized, and blushed.

I took the seeds. Sam brought me a cup of water. I dug into the dirt, not grossed out anymore. I planted the seeds, and covered them with dirt, and watered them.

Sam smiled when I finished, like a proud father or uncle.

“Come back tomorrow,” he urged me.

“I’ll see if I can,” was my response.

I wanted to. I wanted to see Kim, and show her that I wasn’t all bully. That I was human, too.


Please give me feedback! This is a school story, using characters from a book we just read, called Seedfolks. So it’s fanfiction. :P But, please, I need feedback. Tell me if I changed the tense, any silly mistakes. [Also, you may not understand everything because it’s fanfiction. Just edit based on easy stuff. Grammar, spelling.]

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Top Ten Tuesday (P.S. It’s the last day of summer)

It’s time for Top Ten–Waaait. What does that say? In the title? Today’s…the last day of summer? OMG, school starts tomorrow!

shocked animated GIF

[How perfect is this GIF?]

At the beginning of summer, I wanted to go back to school. Now I don’t. Ironic, isn’t it? When I have a long summer in front of me, I want to go to school, but when school’s right around the corner, I don’t want to. Gods above! I am just too difficult.

Well, as I was saying before, TTT is today!

TTT is a meme created by The Broke and the Bookish.

TTT is a meme created by The Broke and the Bookish.

This TTT will be all ten of my summer goals, excluding #11, because that is bonus. So let’s see how I did!

  1. Finish Nakoma. I finished Camp NaNo, which was my goal, so check.
  2. Submit a story to a magazine. Not check.
  3. Read tons. Check!
  4. Experiment with henna. I will try to today!!!
  5. Read Malala Yousafzai’s latest book. Check, because it doesn’t come out till later.
  6. Read The Fault in Our Stars (I know, I should’ve already). Check.
  7. Watch “The Fault in Our Stars”. Check!
  8. Buy those cute rings I saw. I don’t want them anymore, so check…?
  9. Call/email/hang out with my friends. Check.
  10. Keep blogging. Check.

8/10! Go Chloe! That’s pretty darn good.

I’m going to try to stick to my blogging schedule during the school year, but I may skip some. Sorry!

-C-