Results 1 to 3 of 3

Thread: Hope

  1. #1
    The Hyacinth Girl Alaskapigeon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2009
    Santa Barbara, California

    Default Hope

    A/N This is kind of crappy, cause I threw it together just now when I got inspired, but oh well.

    Pokemon Capture Attempted: Poliwag
    Needed Characters: 5000
    Actual Characters:5333

    I lose my way
    And it's not too long before you point it out
    I cannot cry
    Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
    I'm forced to fake
    A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
    My heart can't possibly break
    When it wasn't even whole to start with

    I hide in my closet as I listen to the screams from downstairs. The anger, hatred, and mistrust seem to flow up through the ceiling of the kitchen, the floor of my room, and into the center of my chest, where it lodges itself, black and ugly, a cancerous growth that is nearly tangible. Tears threaten to overflow from my eyes, but I hold them back. There is no room for crying in my life. Instead, I squeeze the small Pokemon in my lap to my chest. He whines softly, like a frightened animal.

    “Shh,” I whisper. “It’ll be okay.”

    BAM! The door slams shut downstairs and the yelling of two voices turn into one wailing and crying. I set the Poliwag down, where it immediately burrows under some clothes, its squishy purple and white body completely hidden. Only its paddle like tail sticks out.

    “Stay here,” I command, my voice hardening into that of a trainer’s. I know he will listen. He always does. I slip out of my closet into the darkness of my room. Without turning the lights on, I navigate my way across the cluttered floor expertly. I’d done this before. Now is where the real courage is needed; I take a deep breath as I tiptoe down the stairs and into the room where my mother lies curled up on a couch. As I come closer to her, everything else disappears; nothing else matters. The first time you see one of your parents cry is heartbreaking. At least this isn’t the first time. “Mama?” I ask her, turning her name into a question. She raises her head, and I see the tears, the makeup running down her face, the whites of her eyes turned red from crying.

    “I’m sorry,” she tells me, her voice breaking, and just like that everything falls apart. I see dark spots in the center of my vision, but I shake my head and cling to consciousness. I am not allowed to fall to the floor. I can’t give in and let someone else take care of everything for me. Thirteen years old, I am unable to fail. Rather than going back upstairs and hiding under my covers like I wish I could, I push my mother aside and slip onto the couch beside her. She clings to me like I clung to my Pokemon, and her tears fall hot and damp on my shoulder. I am uncomfortable and falling to pieces inside, but my face stays stony. I let her grab my hand and squeeze as hard as she needs to. This is my job. This is all I can offer her.

    Eventually, the sobbing stops and she falls into a sleep without rest. I cover her with a blanket and flee to my bedroom. My brothers are already sleeping; they are too young to understand what is happening. They will probably forget this night. It will never curse them like it curses me, flitting through my head like a bird in its cage. I finally lay in my bed and let the tears come, though they come silent. I make no noise, don’t allow the muscles in my face to move. There can be no proof of the pain that threatens to rip me apart. I stay awake, watching the numbers on my clock change, not sure if I want my dad to come home tonight or not. Around three thirty-seven, my Poliwag pokes his head out of my closet. By now I am no longer crying, and I call to him softly. He scurries to my bed, where he jumps up and nestles into the crook of my arm. He is warm and at last, my eyes close and I sink into blissful unawareness.

    I wake with the sun, three hours later. I creep downstairs, as silent and dark as my own shadow. I sit and watch my mother as she sleeps, her chest rising and falling beneath the quilt I threw on her. I ache inside and remind myself that my eyes are traitors; they will reveal me if I let them. I decide to busy myself. By the time she is awake, my brothers are dressed and have eaten. I make her eat toast, though she claims she doesn’t want to. I talk her ear off, my voice cheerful, as I make up things to say: school, my Poliwag, a boy that I invent. I don’t miss the fact that she’s staring at me blankly, because half of her is gone, in some dingy motel, because she is no longer good enough for him. Still, it takes at least part of her mind to listen to my nonsense. As long as part of her is safe, it’s enough.

    I don’t know if she’s aware that I know the truth. I let her tell me that my dad decided to go on a trip this weekend. The lie is good for her. She tells it to herself as she says it out loud for me and my brothers. Inside, I know that he is somewhere with Her. Now I know that I don’t want him to come back, but he will. He always comes back, sometimes with flowers. The apology flows from his lips and he kisses her and then me on the cheek. When he does I will burn inside with the urge to lash out, to strike him for what he is doing, but I cannot. I will stay quiet. I will do what I have to for her as long as I can. She tells me I should go play with my Poliwag. She smiles a little. It’s fake, but it’s a start. I take him to the park.

    I call out moves for him. Water Gun, Double Slap, Body Slam; he performs each one without fail and for a moment, I can forget about what I have to go home to. As I train him, I remember that he is my only hope. He’s my only chance to be free. Finally, I look up and notice the sun is already setting. I feel a lump form in my throat, but will it away. I’ll take him home for now, so I can keep taking care of her, but I am preparing for the day that we’ll go and leave her behind. The idea hurts, but… we’re going to be free. I smile.

    For grader:
    I speak four languages, help me practice please
    Hablas conmigo en español, por favor
    Vous parlez avec moi en français, s'il vous plaît

  2. #2
    The People's Champion Roulette's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2010
    Holland, 1945

    Default Re: Hope

    Claimed in the name of Spain.

  3. #3
    The People's Champion Roulette's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2010
    Holland, 1945

    Default Re: Hope

    Introduction: You begin by painting a sad, dim picture of a broken home and the child that lives in it. Scared to death of their parent's fighting, they take comfort in their Pokemon, a Poliwag. By writing such an emotional event so early on in the story, you make it pretty easy to relate with the character quickly, which did a pretty good job of grabbing my attention. After this short sequence, we know everything we need to for the rest of this story to take place, and I for one was hooked after it. You did well here.

    Plot: Nothing spectacular, to be honest, but it was gripping enough to make up for it. I can't give it too many props for originality or anything, but I must say you did a good job of making a somewhat common situation your own through your description and writing style. A unnamed teenager and their younger brothers are living in a broken home, and their father's infidelity is taking a toll on the rest of the family. The mother, whom the main character is deeply affectionate towards, is obviously pretty affected by this. She's depressed, barely able to get herself off the couch to make her kids breakfast. However, the love of the main character seems to keep her going. Though her love for her husband might be fizzling out, the love from her child seems to have taken its place. While the mother takes solace in her child, the child is able to channel her emotions through raising her Poliwag. By crossing into the world of a trainer, if only for a few minutes, and out of the world of a scared kid, they're able to cope much better with their problems at home.

    What I like about this plot is that it's very relatable. Something like fifty percent of marriages end in divorce now, so this is a pretty common story, unfortunately. Relating to your reader is arguably the most important aspect of writing a story, and you did this very well. Also, I'd like to add that I saw a lot of you in this story. I could tell that this was an inspired work, not a forced one. If you can make a reader realize this, you're doing something right, so great job here.

    Grammar: I couldn't find anything wrong with your Grammar. There might've been a typo or two, but it was nothing too distracting from the work itself, so good job here as well.

    Detail: There wasn't an assload or anything, but it was good enough for a Simple story, I'd say. If your story did lack having a lot of detail, you made up for it by having the detail in it be very nicely written. Here is a good example:

    "The anger, hatred, and mistrust seem to flow up through the ceiling of the kitchen, the floor of my room, and into the center of my chest, where it lodges itself, black and ugly, a cancerous growth that is nearly tangible."

    This was one of the opening sentences, and it did wonders for making relating to the character easier. Kudos. Like I said, not that much detail, but the story was only 5,000 characters, and you had enough to make it nice and pretty.

    Length: Poliwag needs 5,000 characters, you had just over that. Cutting it kind of close, but you hit the MCR so I don't really care. Good job.

    Personal Feelings: Overall, I liked it. You were able to make up for any downsides the story had with your own style and attention to detail. You were able to make a plot we've seen before into something new, fresh, and enjoyable. For a Simple story, this more than does the job I think.



Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts