Um, Hi.
This is an original writing with my own ideas.
I'll probably write bios of characters later.
This is where I REALLY want criticism, because this is my own ideas. This is where I get all nervous in my story writing. so yes. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE, if you read this, at least comment with "I would continue reading this." I would eventually like to publish a book before I die. It's on my bucket list. ^-^ Becoming a successful author would be amaaaazing. :)
So yes. If you think my grammar sucks in some areas, please correct it. I still have A LOT to learn when it comes to the English language.
So thanks. If you read all that, you can withstand a Carrie ramble! CONGRATS! :D
So, here I go.
yuuuuup.
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BEEP BEEP
I pushed the alarm clock off of my end table, sending it to it's doom with a loud crash... For the third time this week. I groaned and pushed the blankets off of me, putting my glasses on my face as I sat up. I could only imagine what mess my hair was in this morning.
"CLARA!" My name was screamed up the stairs. "YOUR ALARM CLOCK HAD BETTER BE IN ONE PIECE!"
I looked at the floor to see my alarm clock definitely not in one piece. "Dammit" I muttered.
"COME ON! THEY'RE GOING TO BE HERE SHORTLY!" My headmistress screamed again.
The day's plans suddenly filled my head and I got out of bed quickly, cursing my stupidity of forgetting as I found decent and clean clothes to wear. I pushed a few younger girls out of the way as I barged into the bathroom, dressing and getting decent without caring about who thought I was being rude for not waiting my turn.
I dashed down the stairs and calmed myself down, trying to appear professional as I ate an apple, watching the window for any fancier cars than usual to park outside.
When a fancy Cadillac SUV pulled up, I ran to the door with the headmistress, waiting for them to knock. Headmistress MacDonald scowled. She didn't like helping us orphans, but not even her ugly scowl could dampen my mood. When they finally knocked on the door, MacDonald had a fake smile on as she opened the door. My smile was very real. This was my chance to escape this hell hole.
"Hello! I'm Mistress MacDonald." She shook the professional-looking lady's hand and then the man's.
The woman smiled. "I'm Sarah Plante, granddaughter of the founder of the Plante Boarding School for the talented!" She seemed very proud, but I guess I would be too.
"And I'm James Ryan, her assistant." He nodded. He seemed more stressed than anything.
"And you must be Clara!" Sarah squealed and took me into a hug. "I'm so excited to meet you!" She smothered me in to her black blazer. She was talking to me as if I was five.
"Is there a place we can talk to her privately?" James eyed the headmistress while I tried not to snicker. She led us to the dining room and I sat across from them as MacDonald closed the doors behind her.
"So, Clara..." Sarah started, putting her briefcase on the table and James took out a notepad and pen. "What's your talent, sweetie?"
"Music." I nodded, quite proud of my accomplishments. They both nodded and James scribbled something down. I guessed that James would be scribbling most of the interview.
"Singing? Instruments?" Sarah seemed pleased with this. "Most girls your age are artists or actresses or singers or models."
"I can learn instruments very easily, and I have a pretty nice voice." I nodded, twiddling my thumbs nervously.
James continued to scribble. "What instruments do you know well?" James asked tentatively, as if he knew he was going to be overpowered by his boss.
"Guitar, saxophone, French horn, piano, and cello." I looked at them. "I'm learning trumpet now too."
"That's very impressive." Sarah cooed. She seemed like she was thrilled, but it was just about as fake as her platinum blond hair colour and tan.
"How are your grades?" James cleared his throat and looked up at me as he asked. He seemed a bit more sure of himself now that his boss approved of his last question. I think he just wanted to get this interview over with so he could go home.
"I'm an above average student. I get all A's usually." I had always made sure that my grades were good for a thing like this.
"Usually?" Sarah raised an overly tweezed eyebrow. "Why only usually?"
I began to worry. Had I just screwed up my chances? "Because... Because..." My hands got clammy. I had to think of a good excuse. "Because I just moved orphanages a year ago. It was really stressful..." I sighed and nodded, pretending to look broken. The last orphanage was worse than this one.
Sarah's face softened. "Oh you poor dear!" James scribbled while Sarah gave me fake sympathy. This was too easy.
"Where are your parents?" James stared right at me.
I shrugged. "Don't know, don't care." It was the truth. If they didn't want to know me, I didn't want to know them.
The interview continued with a lot of boring questions and I answered them all halfheartedly, knowing that this would be easier than it should be. When it was over, I was shooed out of the room while they discussed how the interview went. Mistress was waiting for me as I came out.
"How'd it go?" She asked me in monotone. She may not want us to be happy, but she wanted rid of us.
"Alright I suppose..." I shrugged. I couldn't really tell how it went. It bothered me.
"You better get in." She nodded sternly and walked away.
I sighed and walked into the living area to see Rebecca laying on the floor with an animal colouring book. She looked up when she heard me walk in.
"You're not actually leaving, are you?" She looked heartbroken. She was a seven year old girl who had become my honorary little sister over the years. When I changed orphanages, so did she.
"I might..." I sat next to her, stroking her hair. The school was one place she couldn't come with me. Not yet anyways. "But I'll come home for holidays!" I tried to cheer her up. "And we can write to each other! You can send me lots of pictures for me to hang up in my dormitory as well!" I didn't want to leave her. She had made my life so happy. IN the old orphanage, you got a younger child to take care of, and I got her when she was only a year old. It only got better from there as she grew up. She crawled over to hug me, laying her head on my chest and shutting her eyes tight. During the embrace, I heard Sarah's heels click on the wooden floors as she entered the room.
"Pack your bags, Clara. We leave in forty-five minutes." She nodded and went to find MacDonald with James in tow.
Rebecca began to sob.
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