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Is my writing any good?
As I sit here and stare at my cracked image in the mirror, I think of you. I think of the way you shyly told me you thought I was beautiful. Your voice slowly unravelling down to an uncertain whisper, and incoherent mumblings. You never knew how much that meant to me. I don’t know if you knew it or not, but with each quietly whispered compliment, and lopsided grin, my brick wall finally began to crack. Just a little at a time. With each beep of my phone, hope swirled into my heart, making me dizzy with anticipation. With each time however, I was sorely disappointed.
I miss you. I really do. I miss our late night talks. At the darkest hour of the night, I would slowly tell you bits and pieces about myself. Letting you get a short glimpse of my childhood. A short glimpse at who I actually am. Eventually, that brick wall that I worked so hard to build around myself like a medieval shield, finally came tumbling down all around me. I believed your words. I think you did to. You made me a promise. A promise that you couldn’t keep. You reassured me, that I was going to be alright. I believed you. But with the following days, I realized what I had done. With my brick shield gone, there was nothing to protect me from that first breath taking blow. Confusion twisted and twirled in my mind, creating mock illusions. I’ve never quite known a pain so sharp. It spun me into darkness. It was as if I was a little girl again, trapped in a dark room. With not a single hope of ever finding a way out. I lost all hope. As time went on, I found a way to climb out. Now anger bursted and bloomed in front of my eyes. For crystallized moments, I hated you. I couldn’t stand you. Couldn’t believe you did that to me. That is until, I would see your smiling face walking down the hallway towards me. Just like that, my anger was washed away. Like nothing ever happened.
Im not sure what happened to you. To us. I guess I wont ever know. So, as I sit her, and stare at my cracked image in the mirror, thinking of you for the last time, I must thank you. Thank you for tearing down my brick wall. Bit by bit. Thank you for that one month of pure happiness. Thank you for all that you have taught me.
- 1 decade agoFavorite Answer
Honestly, I think of this more as a letter than a short story.
It's very descriptive but I really couldn't see the point quickly and got a bit confused, is it about heartbreak?
I think it would actually be a good beginning to a story, not a story itself. It doesn't really have a good narrative structure for a story, but its a good introduction.
But that's just my personal opinion...
- ?Lv 71 decade ago
It is an interesting piece of writing and well laid out but what on earth did 'he' do to her or is it that the lady in question is actually talking to herself, her cracked image in the mirror. I get the feeling that towards the end of the piece you rushed a bit as though trying to finish it in case the words disappeared from your mind. I say that because there are errors in the final part e.g. 'Im' and 'sit her.' Some of your sentences are too snappy and could be joined to the previous or next one to keep the flow of the piece going.
I do like the writing but be careful of too many short snappy sentences and make sure you edit it before posting. Good luck with your story and your writing.Source(s): Experience.
- SuperdogLv 71 decade ago
It is screaming out for dialogue. It just looks like a list of self-pitying moans and groans without it.Source(s): I am a professor of English
- Fatal KissLv 61 decade ago
It's good. Is part of a story or your journal?
answer mine?Source(s): currently writing my own book
- Anonymous1 decade ago
Wow. That's pretty awesome. Is it part of anything or just for shits and gigs??