cara

//3/07/08 I haven't really started a draft yet, but I have brainstormed a lot, and I was thinking I could tell you what my story is about. The story starts with, what I think will be, a paragraph about a young girl giving birth. Her parents decided to let her keep the child, and support her with $80,000 to start off with. When the money runs out, she is forced to move to England to work, and cannot afford to bring her, (now 10 years of age) daughter. That will all sort of be squished into a paragraph or two, and the main plot of the story, is the daughter raising money to find her mother. I know it sounds like a cliche but I am going to try to mix things up to make it different than most stories like this. So I will get started on my draft. Let me know what yours is about.. Talk to you soon. :P

3/08/08 Ok.... So I kinda completely changed my story. lol. I have already got 1 whole page of just her telling her parnets she is pregnant, and I just think it willl be wayyy longer than 4 pages if I continue, so I think I am going to just make it about a young mothers life when she has a baby and decides to keep it. I have started it though, so I will post what I have so far. Please Comment on it. : )//

 The strong, cool wind blew through my long dirty blonde hair, as I walked down Pickler Avenue in deep thought. I almost didn’t notice myself coming upon my house, until my crazy little white and brown pug started barking, to what seemed to be the beat of Jingle Bells. I walked inside and put my long trench jacket on the coat rack and picked Benny up, his bark silent.  “How am I supposed to tell them, Benny?” I whispered into his soft, floppy white ear. He turned around and licked my face, then wiggled to get down. I set him on the floor, and walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of cold water, **as he followed? ** him following close behind. My parents usually come home around 3:30, and it was already 3. I took a deep breath and wished more than anything they would be late. As if I were being watched by the devil, my parents walked in **through? ** the door the very next moment.  “Hey, sweetie. See you made it home alright.” My mother said before she kissed my head, like she always does.  “Yea**h? **. I did. I had a good day. Sorta. Um. Yea**h? **.” I stammered avoiding all eye contact with both of them. Without looking at my mother, I could tell she was looking at my father, as if to tell him to do something.  “What’s the matter pookey?” My father said rubbing my back.  “I have something to tell you guys.” I said, knowing that it would be about fifty times better if I were to just get it over with. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I led them into the living room and told them to sit on the couch. I let them sit and ponder for a while, but I mostly did it because I had no idea how I was going to word this. Most people would just flat out say it, but little old me can’t put it together. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“I’m sure you guys already have an idea, right?” I said hoping they would have already guessed so I wouldn’t have to tell them. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“Honey, you are the most responsible daughter ever to walk this planet. I am only expecting good news.” My mother said, smiling a little too big. She looked at my father and he rested his hand on her knee. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I stared at the big brown button on the end of the arm rest on the left side of the couch, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It seemed that at this very moment, I could hear everything. I heard the dogs barking from far away, I heard the swings from Central Park, a **<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">? ** little ways down the street, creak in the fall wind. I heard children laughing outside, playing baseball, and tag. Then it all stopped. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Everything, at once. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“I’m pregnant.” I said breaking my stare from the button to the crack on the orange wall behind my mothers golden hair. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“Are…you…whe-…” My mother’s mouth seemed to be dancing. Making all sorts of moves, but not any sound. My father brought his hand away from my mother’s leg, and brought it to his freckled face. He rubbed his forehead and face, as he always does when he is working in his crammed office, in the back of the house, late at night. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“I know. Well, I don’t know. But—“ <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“How in the world could this happen.” My mother cut me off as she stood up. “How could you abuse the privilege of bringing a miracle into this world!?” Her face reddened to the color of a rotten strawberry, and her eyes filled with water. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“You are fifteen Haylee. FIFTEEN!” My dad yelled, walking across the hard wood floor, it creaking louder with every step. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“Go to your room. When we can stand to talk to you, we will invite you down.” My mother said holding her face in her hands. “GO!” <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I took a deep breath, and went over to the carpeted stairs on the far side of the orange room. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“I’m sorry. It wasn’t my doing.” Was all I said before I started up to my room. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I wanted so badly to slam my wooden door as hard as I could into it’s socket, angry only with my self. I resisted the urge, and just flew onto my poofy green and blue plaid bed. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I did not cry. I did not get hot with anger. I simply just wanted to go to bed. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">So that’s exactly what I did. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">The next morning, I did not plan on going to school. Considering it was already 10:00, and my parents were gone, there was nothing stopping me. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I got up and grabbed my purple and green robe out of my closet. I slipped my arms in and gave myself a hug to get used to its feel. I went downstairs, to see a woman and her dog in our front yard, letting her dog do his business right there. I rolled my eyes and went into the kitchen, and flipped on the little grey TV on the counter, on the right side of the fridge. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“TODAY WE WILL BE HAVING SLIGHT SHOWERS, FOLLOWED BY A THUNDERSTORM LATER ON TONIGHT. THE LOW—“**<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">? **William Blaster preached to all of Manhattan. Blaster was a nick name me and my mother had given the yelling weather man, a couple of years ago. When we were still friends, that is. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">For the next couple of weeks, my parents did not talk to me. It was a living torture, and it didn’t seem to end. My bump was the laughing stock at school, and no one talked to me unless they were making hideous comments. Even my teachers called me Preggy. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">One long cold day, I rode my bike down the main street of Evian, and after about 45 minutes, I was at the doctors. She told me that it was unhealthy to be going to school **<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">why? ** Physically, and mentally**<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">? **. I told her that my parents would not give into that, and make me go anyway, so for the next 10 minutes I just sat there as she wrote out a two page letter to my parents. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I rode back home, and when I walked in the door, instead of seeing my normal boring house, with the same old colors on the walls, I had 12 eyes starring back at me. I dropped all of my stuff off by the door and swallowed hard. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">Then a certain feeling came over me. I felt like I was not the reason everyone was here. I felt like I was not the one who was causing all the chaos all over town. I squinted back at the eyes burning holes in my face and abruptly said, “What.” Not as a question, not as a friendly comment. Just a plain black and white word. I walked over and sat down next to my mom and handed her the letter. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“You don’t need to give me a piece of paper to tell me **<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">y **ou**<span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">' **re pregnant.” Was the first sentence I had heard from her for weeks. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'">
 * __<span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">One and Only __**

<span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">PART TWO <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“What am I supposed to do Sandra? Just say yes, and act like it’s no big deal?” My father quietly said to my mom, not knowing that I could hear every word. I had asked them earlier that day, if I could by any chance keep the baby. All the counselors and doctors I went to said I was being extremely mature about the situation, and could probably handle it. The only problem is I would have a hard time going to school every day. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“James Mathew! You are being so stubborn! This is a baby. A miracle. And even though it wasn’t brought into this world the right way, that doesn’t mean it is not a living creature that needs love.” My mother shot back at him. I hated when my mom referred to it as “The wrong way,” because to me, no matter how old you are, it is all the same. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“You cannot act like you are seriously considering this. SHE IS FIFTEEN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!” My father said with a slight nervous laugh. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">I picked at the white fringe on the edge of the couch. They had been going at it for weeks, and I was certainly done with it. I sucked in my lips, and bit down until it hurt, then got up and walked swiftly into the light blue kitchen, which smelled of lemon pledge. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“We can get rid of it. Your right Dad, I’m only fifteen, and Mom, this is a miracle that needs to be raised by a family. Ok?” I didn’t want an answer, so I turned around quickly. A little too quickly. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“Ahh.Eeee.God... ow.” I clenched my 3 times too big stomach, and fell to the floor. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“HAYLEE!” My mom screeched then ran over to me, and helped me onto the couch. I had been kicked by the baby before, but I could have sworn, I had just been stabbed in the stomach. <span style="FONT-FAMILY: 'Arial','sans-serif'"> <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">“I’m fine. Just kicked me wrong.” I didn’t actually know if that is what had happened, but I didn’t want my mom to get too worried. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">PART THREE <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “How much longer IS this?” I said to my mother as I packed the last of my clothes into my bag. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> The baby had come 2 weeks ahead of time, but it didn’t matter, because I was so ready to __NOT__ be pregnant. My parents had actually decided to let me keep it after about 5 weeks of bickering, screaming, hitting, not talking, emailing, and so on. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “Hunny, I don’t think you need to watch the whole thing, if you need any help, I can tell you what to do.” My mom said flipping of the “Parenting before Hand” video that was playing on the fuzzy black and white screen of the grey TV hanging on the wall in room 2087 at St.Marian’s Hospital. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> I sighed and replied, “Mom, you know.. You’re not the mother of this baby. I am.” <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “I know that. You’re just yo—“ <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “I KNOW MOM.” I cut her off because I had heard, “She’s so young,” and “fifteen…” so many times in the past few weeks that I swore if I heard it one more time my ears would bleed. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “You set? Your dad’s in the car. Better hurry, just drizzling now, but a storm’s supposed to come in.” She mumbled into the window, starring into the clouds that had turned a mysterious shade of grey and black. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial"> “Yea, let’s go. Grab Shelbie will ya, I got too much.” I had named her Shelbie Elizabeth, an 8.5 lb miracle, which was in fact born, the //right// way. <span style="FONT-SIZE: 14pt; COLOR: #8b68ad; LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Georgia','serif'; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial">

//Yea, not all that great yet.. but please comment, and edit it if you want. You can say anything, I won't be offended : )

Jamie~ I really like this story. I sort of feel sorry for Haylee in a way where she gets teased alot. Just for grammar options, you could shorten the did not's into didn't's just to make the sentences flow easier. Are there only two parts, just wondering? :)

<span style="COLOR: rgb(17,123,156)">Um, acutually there are 3, but for some reason I am having trouble getting the last bit up here. I will keep trying though, and thanks for the feedback.. I'll have the rest up there as soon as I can. :P
 * So there it is! lol. The last line is kinda confusing, but I say it because like throughout the story her mom is saying that she is doing it the wrong way, so i thought i would just add it in.. lol.. i dunno, but whatever. Please comment and if you have any edits please put it next to what i should change in bold with a question mark after it and I will look at it. THANK YA JAMIE! ** //