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Posts by aremmegs
Joined: Sep 23, 2010
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aremmegs   
Sep 23, 2010
Writing Feedback / Creative Writing Narrative - Academic Decathlon [2]

I have a narrative for Creative Writing on any topic. Please offer some feedback.
April 23, 2010. 6:00 PM
Tonight, my purity was stripped from me. Nobody cares who did it. Nobody cares but me. No longer am I the small boy who clenches my mother's hand when crossing the street. I am now the corrupted man who grabs the hands of benefactors when they hand me money. Someone had slipped a twenty dollar bill down my shirt when I was mindlessly raving on the dance floor. I seized the bill with the hunger of a beaten dog. I was a fool. I had no idea what I did. Pivoting around, I hounded the dance floor for the culprit. Nobody admitted to the crime. Everybody just looked away. I was surrounded by two hundred cowards.

April 23, 2010. 7:00 PM
A young girl stood there looking at me. What a waste of time. Life is too short to be wasted looking at wallflowers. Like a ravenous child drawn to the last scrap of meat, my eyes were drawn to her. She was different. She was not dancing like those around her. She was not dressed like those around her. She was not like those around her. Standing in the corner with an earbud in each ear, she was oblivious to the world. She was oblivious to me. There was no point trying to engage her. I shrunk back into the shadows like the coward I was.

April 23, 2010. 9:00 PM
The deejay walked to the podium with a hoodlum swagger. He took the microphone and said: "Alright, my fellow Academic Decathletes, it has been a great night out here with you folks, and I hope you will enjoy the rest of your night!" What does he know. The night was already ruined.

April 23, 2010. 9:05 PM
The dance had ended. My curiosity did not. I found myself taking quick glances at her. I took a deep breath and muttered to myself: "Alright, this might be your last chance. Don't mess it up. Remember what the guys agreed on before we came here to Nationals: No regrets."

April 23, 2010. 9:06 PM
Confidence once took refuge in my body, but it left as soon as it saw what it had to work with. I approached her like only a stalker would and asked: "Hey, why weren't you dancing with the rest of us? It's time to let the stress out. No more studying. No more tests. No more."

She took the earbud out of her right ear and said: "I was having fun."
Failure, thy name is carved in my heart. No regrets? Yeah, right.

April 23, 2010. 9:30 PM
Life is a bastard. It comes and seizes the perfect opportunity out of your hands. You look at it soaking in your disappointment and flick it the middle finger. You whine about how R was able to capture the heart of the girl from New York who had dumped her boyfriend for him and how L was able to woo the girl from South Carolina and had spent two late nights talking to her, but it just snickers in your face.

I limped my way to my hotel room and looked out into the Omaha sky. I had opened my heart to Nebraska, and it stabbed the life out of me. The only solace that man has is sleep.

April 23, 2010. 11:30 PM
I awoke with an insatiable thirst and needed something sweet to quench the dryness of my mouth and the bitterness in my heart. I mindlessly strolled into the main lobby and looked for a Coke. Coca-Cola was supposed to be the passport to life. Others said that nothing could mend a broken heart. Whoever they were, they were right.

April 23, 2010. 11:45 PM
Misery loves company. I wandered into the lobby, hoping to find someone to split my pain. Music poured out of the lobby. An old guy with a cane sat on the floor with three young boys. Everyone was enjoying themselves but me. I sat down beside the old man and asked what they were listening to. The old man told me reggae. I laughed. No one else did. I shrugged and closed my eyes.

April 24, 2010. 1:00 AM
Visions came. Visions passed. Visions made me blind to the world. She slid beside me and took a seat. She asked: "Hey can I have that?" I looked up and saw her. Life giveth, life taketh away. Confused at what she wanted, I searched the floor. Seeing my puzzlement, she giggled and grabbed the Coke out of my hands. She said: "I'm not supposed to have sugar. It gets me too hyper." I nodded and closed my eyes.

April 24, 2010. 3:00 AM
A wise man tells no lies, a young man tries and tries. Failure no longer resonated in my head. Confidence had evicted it from its humble abode. The new owner now resides there until the end of time. As I took a step forward and crossed the land of the unknown, the old man foiled my plans and pushed me back. He said: "Listen to what I wrote about Nationals." I nod and flash him a smile. A smile is always false. The truth is a grimace. The truth is a growl. The truth is a howl of rage that cuts through the night.

"I remember, most of all, the end of competition."

I looked at her and said: "I'm Han from Rhode Island. We've met before, remember?" What a stupid thing to say. She nodded and said: "I remember."

"Impossible! So much effort, so much energy, so much time went into our Academic Decathlon competition!"

I stared at the rose before me and muttered: "So, what do they call you?" She said: "Brittney. I'm from Louisiana." A rose by any other name would have smelled just as sweet.

"I looked out that window and wondered. I was alone and it was over."

His pale gray eyes pierced through my façade as he stopped reading. I looked at her, and she looked at me. Neither one of us paid much attention to his speech. Neither one of us remembered what he said. Neither one of us wanted to offend. So, we just clapped. Empty applause echoed through the halls. The old man seemed not to hear the insincerity as he beamed with exuberance and waved us goodnight. People only hear what they want to hear.

Silence cried in pain in the morning air. It beckoned for someone to end its misery. I could not. Unperturbed by the stillness, she slit the silence's throat and pulled me off the floor. She yelled: "Catch me if you can!"

April 24, 2010. 3:30 AM
Fatigue collided into me as my legs gave out. I crawled to the elevator beside me and sat down to recover. I beckoned her to sit with me, and she nodded. I looked her in the eye and said: "Let me tell you a joke I heard earlier tonight. A man goes to a doctor. He says he's depressed. He says life seems harsh and cruel. He says he feels all alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. The doctor says: 'Treatment is simple. The great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That should pick you up." The man bursts into tears. He says: 'But, Doctor...I am Pagliacci.'" She looked at me with a blank stare as I tasted disappointment once again. Embarrassment and Failure had joined hands to thwart my chances. I cursed at unnerving hand of fate and prepared myself for the walk of shame. But suddenly, she leaped up from the floor and grabbed my hand. She pulled me close and whispered: "Enjoy yourself with that twenty dollars."
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