Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A story my 12-year old wrote
I've been writing stories since I could write. I love to tell a good story
and to make people laugh. The ability to tell a good, captivating story is a
talent. Not everyone can do it and clearly some people shouldn't. I've been
told I'm somewhat good at it, though these people could have been lying.
So when my oldest daughter asked me if she could read me a story that she wrote, my heart swelled with pride. "Absolutely," I said, "I would love to hear it."
This is her story, word for word (minus the spelling errors):
I hate my horrible luck. Oh, you don't think my luck is bad? Well, why you don’t put your money where your mouth is and bet me. If I win, you have to keep reading this book and if you win you can put this down and walk away. Deal? Good. First off, my name. I hate my name! Why couldn't my parents pick a real name! Well first you should know I'm a girl, emphasis on girl. Okay, so you want to know my name now, right? Well, it’s Andy. Not Antoinette or anything, just Andy. And the bad luck doesn't stop there. My parents’ divorced last year and I got stuck with my mom. Now I know most of you girls out there are thinking "Wow. She thinks that bad luck." Well, you've never met my mom. She could easily make me do anything, which basically means signing me up for a whole bunch of sports and then telling me the day they start. Still don't think my life is worse than yours? Well the best/worst day of my life started out as the worst. Mom was taking me to a soccer practice that I didn't want to go to. Mom was coaching and I already pretended to be sick last week and I was out of new material. On the way, Mom was going on about how she wanted to know why I hated soccer so much and I said, "I've told you a million times that I hate sports! Mom, watch...."
When I woke up, everything around me was blurry and when my eyes focused it still wasn't pretty. In our conversation, if you will, mom must have not been focusing too well on the road because we had smashed head long into another car. From what I could see the other driver was slumped over on the wheel, a deflated air bag underneath him. Now was a time when I wished I had a cell phone or even a panic button but like I said luck hates me.
When I looked over at mom, I threw up. The windshield had broken on her and the wreckage wasn't pretty. I was pretty sure it was at least 7 p.m. when I woke up and I know mom was making us go to the field two hours early so I could get extra practice for the days I missed. Despite all the glass and blood I checked my mom's pulse. Nothing. I got out of the car and screamed. Mom never got herself a phone and now I had no way to call the paramedics. I was glad I didn't have to deal with mom anymore but then it dawned on me that I would be orphaned if I didn't find my dad. So I went and got my book bag out of the trunk and set off back to town.
To be continued....
Okay, I realize that this is a lengthy post and most of you probably didn't read that entire thing but SERIOUSLY! DID SHE JUST LEAVE HER DEAD MOTHER IN THE CAR AND WALK BACK TO TOWN?
Where is soccer practice? Why was no one else coming to practice? Wouldn't her teammates have noticed the accident? Are they on an abandoned road with no other traffic? Does my 12 year old really think that people just lay around in their smashed cars for hours and hours?
I realize that this is a work of fiction. My daughter's real name is not Andy and I lets be clear, I would never coach soccer but still those words..."I was glad I didn't have to deal with mom anymore" really smacked me in the face.
I'm proud to say that I refrained from critiquing her story and told her that it was very imaginative and that I was looking forward to seeing how her protagonist resolved her conflict.
But between you and I, I'm hoping she starts over.
So when my oldest daughter asked me if she could read me a story that she wrote, my heart swelled with pride. "Absolutely," I said, "I would love to hear it."
This is her story, word for word (minus the spelling errors):
I hate my horrible luck. Oh, you don't think my luck is bad? Well, why you don’t put your money where your mouth is and bet me. If I win, you have to keep reading this book and if you win you can put this down and walk away. Deal? Good. First off, my name. I hate my name! Why couldn't my parents pick a real name! Well first you should know I'm a girl, emphasis on girl. Okay, so you want to know my name now, right? Well, it’s Andy. Not Antoinette or anything, just Andy. And the bad luck doesn't stop there. My parents’ divorced last year and I got stuck with my mom. Now I know most of you girls out there are thinking "Wow. She thinks that bad luck." Well, you've never met my mom. She could easily make me do anything, which basically means signing me up for a whole bunch of sports and then telling me the day they start. Still don't think my life is worse than yours? Well the best/worst day of my life started out as the worst. Mom was taking me to a soccer practice that I didn't want to go to. Mom was coaching and I already pretended to be sick last week and I was out of new material. On the way, Mom was going on about how she wanted to know why I hated soccer so much and I said, "I've told you a million times that I hate sports! Mom, watch...."
When I woke up, everything around me was blurry and when my eyes focused it still wasn't pretty. In our conversation, if you will, mom must have not been focusing too well on the road because we had smashed head long into another car. From what I could see the other driver was slumped over on the wheel, a deflated air bag underneath him. Now was a time when I wished I had a cell phone or even a panic button but like I said luck hates me.
When I looked over at mom, I threw up. The windshield had broken on her and the wreckage wasn't pretty. I was pretty sure it was at least 7 p.m. when I woke up and I know mom was making us go to the field two hours early so I could get extra practice for the days I missed. Despite all the glass and blood I checked my mom's pulse. Nothing. I got out of the car and screamed. Mom never got herself a phone and now I had no way to call the paramedics. I was glad I didn't have to deal with mom anymore but then it dawned on me that I would be orphaned if I didn't find my dad. So I went and got my book bag out of the trunk and set off back to town.
To be continued....
Okay, I realize that this is a lengthy post and most of you probably didn't read that entire thing but SERIOUSLY! DID SHE JUST LEAVE HER DEAD MOTHER IN THE CAR AND WALK BACK TO TOWN?
Where is soccer practice? Why was no one else coming to practice? Wouldn't her teammates have noticed the accident? Are they on an abandoned road with no other traffic? Does my 12 year old really think that people just lay around in their smashed cars for hours and hours?
I realize that this is a work of fiction. My daughter's real name is not Andy and I lets be clear, I would never coach soccer but still those words..."I was glad I didn't have to deal with mom anymore" really smacked me in the face.
I'm proud to say that I refrained from critiquing her story and told her that it was very imaginative and that I was looking forward to seeing how her protagonist resolved her conflict.
But between you and I, I'm hoping she starts over.
Labels:
just write Tuesday,
oldest G,
stories my kids write
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
About Me
- kisatrtle
- I'm a 41 year old (gasp) freelance writer, school cafeteria manager, wife and mother. I have three children and one anxious and overweight beagle. I use my blog to make others laugh, to share some cool crafts, to document my lunchlady adventures and to lament about the challenges faced by us all on the journey called life. Thanks for visiting. Please leave some crack...um...I meant some comments.
Facebook Badge
Popular Posts
My Blogging Buddies
-
-
-
-
Writer’s Workshop: Passing The Baton3 months ago
-
Why I Abandoned Going Buggy...........11 months ago
-
-
Radiate7 years ago
-
Retirement Cards!7 years ago
-
Beyond Meat Challenge #FutureOfProtein8 years ago
-
Easter Pics9 years ago
-
-
So what is going on with me?10 years ago
-
Merry Christmas!10 years ago
-
-
-
-
6 random thoughts:
Great story, obviously some writing genes have been inherited...from mom! :)
Make sure you keep it because once she grows up and reads it again, she'll be just as horrified as you are now and you'll be both able to have a good laugh about it.
As you know from my attempts to write a story I love to leave a cliff hanger...boy she sure left a big one..brilliant:)
Yeah you can be proud..;)
Actually I was quite intriqued by the whole thing. I wanted to know more about that mom and see if Andy was being realistic or if her mom was just being a regular mom. I think Andy must have been in shock or had a concussion or something, right? I'd love to hear what happens to this poor family.
Your daughter sure does have quite the imagination doesn't she?
So another creative genius is living in your household. I think there is a part 2 to this story. Did you tell your daughter that you were posting this? Tell her that we think she's got writing talent too.
By the way, my son told all the moms at the bus stop that he wouldn't give me any money if he won the Lotto. Not a hallmark moment for me :)
I would love to hear the rest of this rather disturbing story. And I'm glad that you reminded us this was fiction ... I'm sure the mom is no way based on you. But jeez ... I'd be kind of hurt and/or pissed if I got this from my son. She does have quite the story going on here!!!!
The writing is superb! Please post the conflict resolution (or, fingers crossed, the new story...I'd be a tad wigged out too)!