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28 Apr 2012
I have to write a personal narrative for my 8th grade english class. Mines made up and not done but what do yal think of it so far?? Its about me and my friend gettin peer pressured into going to a party. Opinons? suggestions?
Posted on 28 Apr 2012
Pretty good, pretty good.(:
Posted on 29 Apr 2012
I liked it :)
Posted on 30 Apr 2012
i liked it but there is a bit of errors and some fragments. Is your story meant to be written in past or present tense? If you want the reader to follow you along in the story as if it is happening at the moment, make is present tense. I also changed a few words, hope this helped out! XOXO
I stared out my window watching the streetlights glow in the intimidating darkness; the houses reeked with silence. DeAnna’s voice shook me from my state.
“This doesn’t sound like a good idea. The popo around here are tight…plus the curfew regulations…”
Morgan must have cut her off. If there is one thing Morgan is good at its(it's) getting people to fallow (follow) her. She is “that” girl. The on e (one) everyone wants to be (place comma) with her long curly brown hair and big brown eyes. Her voice is convincing and confident.
“Alright. 12 o’clock,” DeDe was convinced her voice had a spring in it and I watched her eyes grow wide. (DeDe said with a spring and eyes widening) “We have to get ready!”
“It’s only 10!” I screamed. My bed was heaven to my aching body. The 4x800 ended only two hours ago. (what is 4x800? explain so readers are not left wondering what it is and are not lost). My legs screamed with pain wishing to rest as I slowly managed to yank them from my lumpy mattress. As I rose, walking on the cool wood floor, my green eyes began to shine and a tear swelled up gleaming off the lights of my bathroom.
DeAnna was concentrating on her image in the illuminated mirror. Her long brown hair was down and wavy like it always naturally was, but she still appeared to look all so different. Confidence replaced the insecurity hidden in her big emerald eyes. Freckles weren’t a problem anymore, because it seemed like nothing could ruin her night.
“Aren’t you gonna get ready?” DeAnna was staring (asking while staring) at me.
I understood what she was getting at (or I figured where she was going with this). My red brown hair was still tangled in a messy bun from my race and my makeup must have melted off considering my eyeliner now smothered my face in dark random streaks. I grabbed my ebony mascara from purse and stared on the long job ahead of me.
When DeDe was finished getting primped, nobody would have been able to recognize her. DeAnna’s eyelashes were longer then the line for tickets to a One Direction concert, her lips were bright rose pink, and she had a tight barred purple tank top with pale jean shorts. I, on the other hand, dressed as I normally do. My hair was tousled, cascading down my back and I wore my faded blue jeggings with a dark as night, oversized, Forever 21 shirt. It was now 11:12pm, time to leave.
Our footsteps sounded as soft as butterfly wings tapping together. My tv was turned on like it always continually was, but louder, if it was any quieter (if it was any more quiet than usual) I imagined my sister would smell the suspicious behavior miles away (I can imagine the suspicious behavior my sister would smell from miles away). She was always snoopy like that. We gathered our pajamas and a stack of heavy thick blankets to head to the basement. Two flights of stairs had to be crossed to reach it, but that was the easy part. Once we were in the basement we laid out the blankets on the movie theater chairs, pulled them out so they were laying down, and turned on Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. That was just in case my family came down or didn’t see us in bed. If they walked down just a couple stairs to go and find us they would be able to hear the movie playing and laziness would get the better of them, so they would hastily go back to bed. Lastly, we shut off every light and slowly turned the lock waiting for the click.
The air was bone chilling and hit me like a wall of knives. Everything seemed so still and abandoned, nothing moved. The moon was ample, stealing all attention from the envious dazzling stars. The only way out of my backyard was to hop the six foot high metallic fence. For people like DeAnna, who constantly lift weights at the gym and are (is, though you state people, you state DeAnna afterwards. Thus, the sentence has shifted to her, not people) taller than 5’3”, this was considerably easy. I stood in astonishment watching her jump up, perfectly and gracefully swing her leg high above the fence, and slowly bring herself back to the earth. Then it was my turn. Looking up at the rail I leaped as high as possible, somehow managed to yank myself to the peak, rolled myself over and dropped clumsily into the unforgiving grass.
i like it a lot...i didn't really try to correct any errors cause it looks like Geena did that already...but i liked the story.
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