Bedroom Talk

What is your opinion on the start of my story? I would LOVE to hear it!? Prologue Four photos were laid out on the dusty bed. Four people stared up at an old woman looking down upon them, they were smiling and she wasn’t. Her face was crinkled and her lips pursed. It was as if it hurt her to look at these pictures, even though they were of total strangers - strangers that she would soon meet. The old woman with the purple and burnt-orange head scarf had been waiting in the small dank room for hours, planning; making sure everything was perfect so nothing could go wrong. The ceremony had to go as planned, like it had done exactly sixty years ago. She remembered back to that night, how she had been so beautiful and young; A lively girl in a little black dress who was celebrating her seventeenth birthday with her boyfriend. There had been about to head off to a ball when she changed her mind. She was going to follow her heart, and follow the instructions of the anonymous letter that had arrived earlier that day. She wasn’t sure if her boy had been upset by this turn of events, because she never saw him again. She had escaped her friends and caught a train to inner Melbourne where it took almost an hour to find the destination she was looking for... she was a little bit surprised at what she had found but was shocked at what those people had told her... A tear fell upon one of the frozen smiling faces. It was a girl with blonde hair and grey eyes, she looked so happy and peaceful, and the old woman preyed that these kids wouldn’t make the same mistakes that she did when she found out her fate, like these youths were going to in a matter of hours...   Chapter one – Bonnie Never in a million years would I have imagined my parents forgetting my birthday, but they did. I woke up to a quite house; my bedroom was filling with morning light which shone on my white chest of drawers and four-poster bed. I had been working towards a new look in my room for over a year, saving up my money which I got from working at a fruit shop down the road. It was finally starting to look like me – clean, peaceful with a creative flair. All the furniture was white, and the accessories were mostly greens and yellows. I had asked for a new desk, and to be honest, I expected it, but when I entered the kitchen where mum was sitting by herself sipping coffee I knew I didn’t get it – or anything. “Morning mum,” I said sitting down at the table too, smiling. And I knew instantly by the look on her face that she was horrified at herself. It took her a moment to actually gather any words together. She straightened out her dressing gown, took another gulp of coffee and then stuttered for a while before saying. “Happy seventeenth Bon!” I was shocked. But I didn’t have the heart to be angry. I just sat there, looking around our spacious wood-interior kitchen, in silence. She studied me for a moment, her grey eyes which were so much like my own showed guilt, her brow was creased. Then she sighed. “You’re a good girl you know, and your father and I thought that because you’re older now, and you deserve a present that you want, you can choose your own. Your dad will give you the money.” If I was any normal person who didn’t always feel bad after arguing I would have jumped down my mum’s throat at this point. It was a good excuse, I give her that, but really – I was older, like she had said, I can tell when something has been made up on the spot. I would have also pulled my short and plump dad back into the room where he had appeared whistling tune only moments before. “Thanks mum... and I know you and dad have been caught up in the business at the moment, so it’s okay that you forgot my birthday. I’m going to have a shower.” I left her with a stunned expression and her coffee, and went back up to my room. It wasn’t exactly the best start to my birthday, my seventeenth birthday which I had been working towards for months. I wanted it to be the best day... I wanted it to be the start of a new me, a more courageous and exciting me. I guess it’s true that a leopard can’t change his spots – for now... Our house is modern and spacious. I am an only child so there’s plenty of room and because mum’s a clean freak nothing is ever out of place. It’s not clinical though, it still feels like home in every possible way. The bathroom was tiled and a double shower was set in the corner near the cedar bench. I walked over to the mirror and I was about to examine my face when I got this sudden surge. I needed to be wet, near water. I had to soak my pale skin; I wanted the small water droplets to roll down my stomach and to eventually soak through... I ran a bath as quickly as I could and stripped down to nothing. I tied my wavy blonde hair into a bun before letting it out again – I wanted every part of my body to be soaking in water. okay so im 15 and this is the start to my story. what do you think? thanks :))

Look at this really cool story I wrote!? Prologue Four photos were laid out on the dusty bed. Four people stared up at an old woman looking down upon them, they were smiling and she wasn’t. Her face was crinkled and her lips pursed. It was as if it hurt her to look at these pictures, even though they were of total strangers - strangers that she would soon meet. The old woman with the purple and burnt-orange head scarf had been waiting in the small dank room for hours, planning; making sure everything was perfect so nothing could go wrong. The ceremony had to go as planned, like it had done exactly sixty years ago. She remembered back to that night, how she had been so beautiful and young; A lively girl in a little black dress who was celebrating her seventeenth birthday with her boyfriend. There had been about to head off to a ball when she changed her mind. She was going to follow her heart, and follow the instructions of the anonymous letter that had arrived earlier that day. She wasn’t sure if her boy had been upset by this turn of events, because she never saw him again. She had escaped her friends and caught a train to inner Melbourne where it took almost an hour to find the destination she was looking for... she was a little bit surprised at what she had found but was shocked at what those people had told her... A tear fell upon one of the frozen smiling faces. It was a girl with blonde hair and grey eyes, she looked so happy and peaceful, and the old woman preyed that these kids wouldn’t make the same mistakes that she did when she found out her fate, like these youths were going to in a matter of hours...   Chapter one – Bonnie Never in a million years would I have imagined my parents forgetting my birthday, but they did. I woke up to a quite house; my bedroom was filling with morning light which shone on my white chest of drawers and four-poster bed. I had been working towards a new look in my room for over a year, saving up my money which I got from working at a fruit shop down the road. It was finally starting to look like me – clean, peaceful with a creative flair. All the furniture was white, and the accessories were mostly greens and yellows. I had asked for a new desk, and to be honest, I expected it, but when I entered the kitchen where mum was sitting by herself sipping coffee I knew I didn’t get it – or anything. “Morning mum,” I said sitting down at the table too, smiling. And I knew instantly by the look on her face that she was horrified at herself. It took her a moment to actually gather any words together. She straightened out her dressing gown, took another gulp of coffee and then stuttered for a while before saying. “Happy seventeenth Bon!” I was shocked. But I didn’t have the heart to be angry. I just sat there, looking around our spacious wood-interior kitchen, in silence. She studied me for a moment, her grey eyes which were so much like my own showed guilt, her brow was creased. Then she sighed. “You’re a good girl you know, and your father and I thought that because you’re older now, and you deserve a present that you want, you can choose your own. Your dad will give you the money.” If I was any normal person who didn’t always feel bad after arguing I would have jumped down my mum’s throat at this point. It was a good excuse, I give her that, but really – I was older, like she had said, I can tell when something has been made up on the spot. I would have also pulled my short and plump dad back into the room where he had appeared whistling tune only moments before. “Thanks mum... and I know you and dad have been caught up in the business at the moment, so it’s okay that you forgot my birthday. I’m going to have a shower.” I left her with a stunned expression and her coffee, and went back up to my room. It wasn’t exactly the best start to my birthday, my seventeenth birthday which I had been working towards for months. I wanted it to be the best day... I wanted it to be the start of a new me, a more courageous and exciting me. I guess it’s true that a leopard can’t change his spots – for now... Our house is modern and spacious. I am an only child so there’s plenty of room and because mum’s a clean freak nothing is ever out of place. It’s not clinical though, it still feels like home in every possible way. The bathroom was tiled and a double shower was set in the corner near the cedar bench. I walked over to the mirror and I was about to examine my face when I got this sudden surge. I needed to be wet, near water. I had to soak my pale skin; I wanted the small water droplets to roll down my stomach and to eventually soak through... I ran a bath as quickly as I could and stripped down to nothing. I tied my wavy blonde hair into a bun before letting it out again – I wanted every part of my body to be soaking in water. what do you think? thanks :))