The Wheel of Fortune
By:Gen1900
I didn’t want to go to school that day, of course, I never wanted to go. But that morning my mind especially resisted, “Gilmore High.”
It was that time of year for the Senior Prom. All the cheerleaders had a date, so you can cross them off the, “Single and Ready To Mingle ,” list. A small fraction of the nerdy girls snatched a boy, which made about three-fourths of the female population at school still waiting for the right one to come along. I was a part of the waiting group.
Mom was in the kitchen pouring cereal in two bowls when I came rolling in.
She looked my way quickly before going back to what she was doing.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“Hmm . . . if you count two hours being rested,” I replied.
She walked over to me with a full bowl of Wheaties and handed it to me.
“You could of asked for help getting into the wheelchair this morning, you know,” said Mom.
Since you aren’t familiar with how I ended up sitting in this blasted two wheeler car, I’ll explain briefly.
Before my legs were completely paralyzed, I was a wild party animal. On Friday nights you could find me at parties, drinking my worries away. How stupid I was back then.
My friends and I got into a car sometime in April around one in the morning. They pushed me to driving it, so after awhile I gave into the temptation. They had me put the car to ninety miles an hour, which sent the vehicle zooming down the highway. A deer decided to sprint across the road at the exact moment we were speeding. It smacked into the window, released the air bags, and we ended up slamming into a railing. After that, everything to me was a blur. Two days later, I found out I lost three of my closest friends in a matter of seconds.
“So why didn’t you sleep good?” inquired Mom.
“Prom is this Saturday,” I blurted out, tired at the fact she kept interrogating me.
“Oh, well I’m sure someone will ask you. Have faith, sweetie,” she whispered.
Mom dropped me off at school before she went to work. As usual she wheeled me into the halls, showing everyone how NOT independent I was. The boys stared at me and the girls giggled behind my back.
“Have a good day, honey,” she said, kissing me on the forehead with a whole entire audience watching.
“Mom . . . ,”I whined but she already went out the doors.
A girl of about sixteen strutted up to me as I was grabbing my Algebra books.
“You a Mommy’s girl huh? Does she read you bedtime stories too?” she said sarcastically placing her hands on her hips.
I ignored her. She must have thought I wanted more of her blabbering because she continued insulting me.
“Do you get milk and cookies after you go bathroom?” she chuckled with a mean sparkle in her eyes.
Suddenly a voice piped up from behind her.
“Hey! Leave her alone,” the voice turned out to be the football quarterback of Gilmore High.
He was a Senior, like me, with sandy blond hair, and brown eyes. I was very surprised he was sticking up for me, the invalid.
“I was just messin’ with her. How you doin’, Ian?” the girl squeaked throwing her arms around his neck.
“Knock it off, Ashley. Could you get your hands away from my face please!” he yelled, clearly annoyed.
“Fine! Fine! Golly Miss Molly you are in a foul mood, ” she muttered as she walked away from us.
He immediately turned to me.
“You okay . . . what’s your name?” he stuttered.
“It’s Rachel,” I replied slowly. My messy hair and checkered skirt was probably a sight for sore eyes.
“Rachel . . . right. Do you have a prom date for this Saturday?” he asked turning red like a tomato.
“No, but I barely know you, ” I said without thinking his offer through.
“Yeah, but I saved your life and I thought maybe you can repay me by being my date, ” he persisted smiling.
“Sure, I guess I could. I don’t have any other offers,” I concluded with a tiny smirk.
“That should’ve hurt but it didn’t. I’ll see ya around. Remember . . . I’m a football star. They know how to tackle the girl they want, ” he replied cockily.
As he left me I yelled, “Remember this, the girl can strike back!”
When he was far enough away, I squealed in delight. My dreams were coming true!
Realistic Fiction
Comments are closed.
Likes
1009 Views
Share:
This is a very sweet story. I laughed when reading Ian’s response to the snobby girl trying to put her arms around his neck. I really wish there was more to this story. Good job nailing the dialogue and staying consistant throughout!
This is a more advanced critique, but your dialogue has far surpassed the beginner’s level, so this might help you a bit.
You effectively use dialogue tags, however, I think they’d be more poignant if you limited 80% of them to just “s/he said” or “said s/he.” For example you will make your descriptions more powerful if you describe the way a character is whining, instead of saying “she whined.”
Further, and I may not explain this well, when you use a dialogue tag, it describes how someone says something, and what they’re doing, as their talking. So instead of saying:
“Do you get milk and cookies after you go bathroom?” she chuckled with a mean sparkle in her eyes.
the proper way to write it would be:
“Do you get milk and cookies after you go bathroom?” she said, then chuckled with a mean sparkle in her eyes.
Because while the reader understands that you mean she said something, then chuckled, grammatically, you’re writing that she is trying to speak as she’s laughing.
Something to try and be aware of in the future.
Thanks for the constructive criticism. That has giving me hope on how to work on my writing. Thanks again and God Bless!