What Do You Think Of This First Chapter Re-Write?
Sentances with one apostrophe ( ‘ ) is in italic (which is her conscience talking to her)
I gazed at my new classmates, all innocent and weak and mindless, unaware of the truth behind me. Maybe, I could slip through school, unseen by everyone else, and not end up in the school like the last one: burned.
Maybe, just maybe… I can start my life over here.
“Everyone,” the redheaded teacher introduced to the class, “This is Nicole—” she turned her head to me “—or would you rather us call you by a nickname?”
My heart suddenly started racing with anxiety. “Nicole is fine.” I responded softly.
I suddenly started thinking of the incident at my old school. The fleeing people, the sirens, the petrified screams, all started flooding back in my mind.
I erased the images from my head quickly. I would not let my problem screw up my life again. I couldn’t. One ordeal a year was enough.
“Ok, Nicole,” the teacher said. I whizzed my head around, not expecting to be talked to. “You can sit right there by the window.” the teacher pointed to an empty seat next to a girl with short black hair in a ponytail.
The teacher glared at the black haired girl as I took a seat and said, “Gabbi, don‘t start talking to Nicole. We all know how you can‘t keep your mouth shut.”
The class giggled and Gabbi shrugged and grinned, looking around with her icy blue eyes.
“Hi, new friend!” she said giddily. I turned to the black haired girl with a frivolous look on her face. “I‘m Gabbi Townman.”
“I‘m Nicole…” I said faintly, my heart about to burst out of my chest. I noticed her accent was Australian.
“Hi, Nicole! You‘re my new BFF!”
I flashed a smile. “Ok,” I was relieved she didn’t ask about my burnt knuckles or why my arm is wrapped in medical tape.
The class turned to the front when the teacher said, “Since Nicole is new, would someone like to volunteer to show her around and—”
“I will!” Gabbi exclaimed, springing out of her seat with her finger pointing up to the ceiling gallantly.
“No, you can’t afford to miss class again.” she told her. She looked at a blond boy with green eyes in the back. “Nicole, Brendan will show you around and tell you about Brownwood School.”
The boy looked up and then at me.
A moment later, the school bell rang, and everyone emerged from their seats and left. The ringing noise made me flinch.
‘Its just the bell, not the fire alarm…’
Brendan, now at the doorframe, gestured for me to come to him. I rose from my seat, my planner in my hand and followed him throughout the school.
On the way to first period, I noticed Brendan kept looking at my burnt arm, now wrapped in medical tape. My eyes glanced at him staring at it in awe.
“Yes, its injured!” I snapped. He looked away, his face blushing and his green eyes wide as I barked.
“Um… why?”
I looked down, feeling the emptiness of the hall wrap around me. “It‘s hard to explain,” I murmured, and ran down the hall before he could ask any further.
***
My father came home unexpectedly early. He takes little care of me, and usually goes into his room right after he gets back from work.
When he walked through the door, I turned to him from the kitchen and asked, “Why are you home so early?”
His tired eyes glanced at me, dull and emotionless. “The pipe there is broken. No water.”
As he put his coat on the rack, I came over and asked “So, do you want to know how my first day of school was?”
He sighed, “Not really.”
My face tightened and my mouth curved down like a hill. What kind of father doesn’t want to talk to their child? He doesn’t even care about my problem, he just moved because we were forced to.
I turned around; picked up the sandwich I almost forgot about and gave it to him. “I made this for you.”
He looked at it, his expression blank. “I don’t want it.”
“But I made it special for y—”
“I said I don’t want it!” he shouted, his face red like fire and he slammed the bedroom door behind him.
‘He doesn’t care about you…’ Conscience told me. ‘If he did, he would help you, not ignore you…’
I started to agree with my thoughts. If he did care, he would at least to say hi to me, and go food shopping for once and take care of me like a dad should, instead of ignoring me like an old rag doll in the bottom of a toy box.
‘Exactly…’
But, I guess I could let it go. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m used to it.
‘But don’t you want revenge? For all the stuff he’s done to you?’
Doing bad things won’t help! If I set a guy on fire, Dad won’t become a better person!
‘How do you know? Maybe he’ll give a crap about you afterwards. Don’t you see? When you do things, he takes notice in you! Then he’ll pay attention to you for once!’
I thought. This yearning for my father’s attention has grown into a problem. I can’t stop.
‘Go ahead. Let it out.’
The nights here were cold and silent. I zipped up my dark jacket and cr
crossed my arms to preserve the little heat I had left inside. Fall was colder than I thought it would be. A breeze ruffled my hair and made discarded papers tumble down the empty street. The half moon shone in the dark sky, still visible behind the murky clouds.
My body became to feel numb. I started to loose feeling in my feet, then my legs, then my stomach and finally my chest and head, feeling as if some unseen force was taking over my body inch by inch. My body was sinking into the other side. The darker side. I held my head as this happened, which felt like someone was trapped inside my skull and was trying to push its way out. My fingers pressed against my throbbing head, feeling the worst pain I had ever felt before.
Now, I had lost all feeling. My body began to move and walk almost by itself down the street. I was sure I was possessed, my soul only lurking in the depths of my empty body. I felt like I was drunk, having no control of my body. All I could do is watch.
When