Nancy asks…
How's the story I'm writing? How old do you think i am based on my writing?
I flinch. Where am I? How did I get here? I remember nothing. Why is that? My left eye is throbbing. My heart is pounding. I have slits all up and down my arms, which are exposed from my purple tank top. My arms look extremely thin and weak. My feet are bare and cold. They're tremendously muddy and have a thin layer of sand on them. Why sand? We live nowhere by the beach! Pennsylvania hardly has any beaches. The closest one to my town is at least four hours away- by plane. That's a day's trip to the beach in a car. Don't be afraid. You can figure this one out, girl. I am so tired. My eyes aren't willing to stay open. I have to hold them open with my bony fingers. They crack under the weight of my temples. I rest my body. I let my eyes close. Suddenly, I remember everything. Meagan and I were first invited to Ali's party. We didn't know it wouldn't be supervised. Ali was the queen of my school- my world. She was prettier than Jessica Simpson and had the body of Tyra Banks. Meagan and I both doubted ourselves. I thought Meagan would be beautiful if she washed her face, wore foundation, bought and used mascara, and lost a few pounds. Meagan thought I could be exceptionally attractive if I dyed my hair darker, used Proactive, and wore glittery body lotion. We never did though. Meagan had a phobia of mascara getting in her eyes and blinding her. She also had thin skin which required an expensive type of makeup. I, on the other hand, couldn't dye my hair until I was 18 (rule of my house) and my parents for some odd reason thought glittery stuff was much too "old" for a 14 year old. So, we were both stuck with our slightly tall, pale, so-so attractive bodies. I remember getting invited to the party. "Ashley, come to my party and we can partay all night long." Ali smirked at me, then winked. If Ali invited you anywhere without winking you knew she was teasing you. If she winked, you were in. I was in. Partying with Ali for even a night would make my life complete. Chilling with Ali was like partying which Heath Ledger on cloud 9. It was probably the best thing you could ever do, aside from modeling for Smackers, which I had done when I was 10. When I was 10 my skin was clear, I didn't need glasses, and my eyes were smoldering. That's probably why I got the job. It was the only modeling job I ever did and the $400 was paid in cash. I remember I spent it on a 3 hour European facial and massage for my Mom for Mother's Day. I remember when Meagan and I were alone but at the same time it would be as though no one was ever home in those hollow heads of ours. I wished it was different. I knew it would haunt me forever. I wished it never happened, but it did. It happened and there was nothing I could do about it. After getting invited to hang with Ali, I then began to mimic how she dressed. It was pretty skimpy, actually. I knew my parents would never let me wear super short shorts and towering high heels outside of my room. I always would have to come to the parks and stores early so I could change from my sweatpants into something that didn't look frumpy. Ali's posse would always walk with our hands joined together. It was so much fun. Whenever Ali and I got to be alone for even five minutes, we'd love every second of it. I never wanted to leave her, ever. She made me so happy. Whenever I wasn't with her, I would get so miserable and feel like there was nothing left in the world to look forward to. There were a few things that bothered me about Ali, though. Although I would never tell her, I couldn't stand how she was a terrible speller and how she was skinnier than me. I don't know why but I somehow managed to live without thinking about those things with Ali ever again. Basically all we ever did when we were twelve was walk around town in inappropriate clothing and play in parks. Once we turned thirteen, we started stealing. It started out with little things, like 20 bucks from my Mom's wallet, and candy corn from BiMart. Soon it escalated to high points. Like stealing blouses from Nordstrom and taking shoes from Payless. Fast forwards about six months after Ali and I turned 13. We were in her room listening to Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" and singing as loud as we possibly could. Few times I've been around that track… "Ash, have you ever tried Laffy Taffy?" Ali said while flinging her one blonde side braid over her left shoulder and applying purple eyeliner to her grey-green eyes. "Of course I've had Laffy Taffy." I say while rolling my eyes. "Not this kind." Ali smirks and delicately peels off a wrapper of a sour apple Laffy Taffy. That's my favorite kind and she knows it. I can't resist one of those. "Okay. So, what's so special about this one?" I say while popping it in my mouth. "It'slacedwithLSD." Ali said as suddenly as she could. "WHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?" I scream. I can't spit it out; I've already swallowed it. "Allllllllllllllllllllllll
Our pick of the answers:
It's okay...but I can certainly tell your young. I'd say thirteen...MAYBE fourteen...possibly twelve...but my best bet is thirteen.
Jenny asks…
Calling all writers!!!!? PLEASE HELP! ?
OK. so basically i'm writing this story and well read how much i've written first. I flinch. Where am I? How did I get here? I remember nothing. Why is that? My left eye is throbbing. My heart is pounding. I have slits all up and down my arms, which are exposed from my purple tank top. My arms look extremely thin and weak. My feet are bare and cold. They're tremendously muddy and have a thin layer of sand on them. Why sand? We live nowhere by the beach! Pennsylvania hardly has any beaches. The closest one to my town is at least four hours away- by plane. That's a day's trip to the beach in a car. Don't be afraid. You can figure this one out, girl. I am so tired. My eyes aren't willing to stay open. I have to hold them open with my bony fingers. They crack under the weight of my temples. I rest my body. I let my eyes close. Suddenly, I remember everything. Meagan and I were first invited to Ali's party. We didn't know it wouldn't be supervised. Ali was the queen of my school- my world. She was prettier than Jessica Simpson and had the body of Tyra Banks. Meagan and I both doubted ourselves. I thought Meagan would be beautiful if she washed her face, wore foundation, bought and used mascara, and lost a few pounds. Meagan thought I could be exceptionally attractive if I dyed my hair darker, used Proactive, and wore glittery body lotion. We never did though. Meagan had a phobia of mascara getting in her eyes and blinding her. She also had thin skin which required an expensive type of makeup. I, on the other hand, couldn't dye my hair until I was 18 (rule of my house) and my parents for some odd reason thought glittery stuff was much too "old" for a 14 year old. So, we were both stuck with our slightly tall, pale, so-so attractive bodies. I remember getting invited to the party. "Ashley, come to my party and we can partay all night long." Ali smirked at me, then winked. If Ali invited you anywhere without winking you knew she was teasing you. If she winked, you were in. I was in. Partying with Ali for even a night would make my life complete. Chilling with Ali was like partying which Heath Ledger on cloud 9. It was probably the best thing you could ever do, aside from modeling for Smackers, which I had done when I was 10. When I was 10 my skin was clear, I didn't need glasses, and my eyes were smoldering. That's probably why I got the job. It was the only modeling job I ever did and the $400 was paid in cash. I remember I spent it on a 3 hour European facial and massage for my Mom for Mother's Day. I remember when Meagan and I were alone but at the same time it would be as though no one was ever home in those hollow heads of ours. I wished it was different. I knew it would haunt me forever. I wished it never happened, but it did. It happened and there was nothing I could do about it. After getting invited to hang with Ali, I then began to mimic how she dressed. It was pretty skimpy, actually. I knew my parents would never let me wear super short shorts and towering high heels outside of my room. I always would have to come to the parks and stores early so I could change from my sweatpants into something that didn't look frumpy. We would always walk with our hands joined together. It was so much fun. Whenever Ali and I got to be alone for even five minutes, we'd love every second of it. I never wanted to leave her, ever. She made me so happy. Whenever I wasn't with her, I would get so miserable and feel like there was nothing left in the world to look forward to. There were a few things that bothered me about Ali, though. Although I would never tell her, I couldn't stand how she was a terrible speller and how she was skinnier than me. I don't know why but I somehow managed to live without thinking about those things with Ali ever again. Basically all we ever did when we were twelve was walk around town in inappropriate clothes and play in parks. Once we turned thirteen, we started stealing. It started out with little things, like 20 bucks from my Mom's wallet, and candy corn from BiMart. Soon it escalated to high points. Like stealing blouses from Nordstrom and taking shoes from Payless. Fast forwards about six months after Ali and I turned 13. We were in her room listening to Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" and singing as loud as we possibly could. Few times I've been around that track… "Ash, have you ever tried Laffy Taffy?" Ali said while flinging her one blonde side braid over her left shoulder and applying purple eyeliner to her grey-green eyes. "Of course I've had Laffy Taffy." I say while rolling my eyes. "Not this kind." Ali smirks and delicately peels off a wrapper of a sour apple Laffy Taffy. That's my favorite kind and she knows it. I can't resist one of those. "Okay. So, what's so special about this one?" I say while popping it in my mouth. SO anyways back to the question... What could be so special about the laffy taffy? I was thinking it could be lace
Our pick of the answers:
You don't need to put the entire excerpt in a question unless you're asking for crit. You could have easily just said 'what's so special about laffy taffy' instead of putting the entire thing in a question. Yes, it could be drugged.
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