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I don't usually write, but here goes..
---
Andrew had never belonged. He was born on the other side of the world, but his parents had somehow concluded that ripping him away from the few friends he had made at age 5 and emigrating across two continents would be good for him. Better education and less crime, they claimed.
9 years later he was sitting on an empty hilltop just outside a small rural town in North Essex, feeling more alone than he ever had done before in his short life. Watching the sun set, the mist settle on the fields, and the stars spinning as the earth moved through space was comforting to him somehow.
He wished he could be back sitting on a beach in Cape Town where he had been born with his parents and relatives. Maybe if he hadn't been forced to change schools four times before his parents finally settled somewhere, if he opened up to people and didn't spend so much time alone, if he had more friends, or found a soul mate -- perhaps then he could belong.
But he retreated into what he loved doing. He spent hours on end sitting alone in his tiny bedroom carving intricate figurines out of stone or soap. He had drawers and shelves full of them. He rarely invited anyone round, and when he did, they usually left with a stranger impression of him than when they had arrived. His parents was concerned, but there was little she could do.
At one point he tried belonging in church. He clung onto his religion, his belief in a God providing hope in his otherwise miserable life. But the people there, despite being friendly as he had expected, never actually seemed to care about him. He prayed with them and sung their songs, but as much as he wanted to believe there was a God, if he was there, God never spoke to Andrew. He was living a lie.
Two years later his parents split up. Sitting alone on his bed carving, listening to his parents screaming at eachother downstairs, just caused him to retreat further into himself. He blamed himself for everything, for how he looked and felt and acted, and for the fact that his parents didn't love eachother anymore. He became more and more depressed, his self-esteem lessening by the week. He hated every beautiful day.
Before then he had excelled at school. In years 8 and 9 a few of his teachers had actively cared about the subject they were teaching, and he'd felt that he had managed to connect with them. But when GCSEs came around, and his dad departed from his life, something inside him changed.
Before then he had always been a good student. He had predicted A* grades in most subjects. But now he stopped putting any effort in at school -- he stopped putting his hand up for questions he knew the answer to, he made enemies out of some of his teachers, and at home he stopped carving.
He stopped caring.
During this change he attracted the attention of a group of people at school who had previously regarded him as a geek. They quickly accepted him into their group, but when he was with them out of school they'd always end up getting drunk out of their minds. Somehow when he was drunk, and laughing, he felt less alone. More than anything in the world he craved that feeling. He wanted to know that there was at least someone out there who cared about him and loved him.
At last he thought he belonged somewhere. But inside, he knew that he was just as alone as he had always been. These people didn't respect him as a person, they just spent time with him because he had the means to pay for their habit. But he carried on, still seeking attention, taking more and more risks in his drunken exploits. Once he found himself waking sprawled half-naked across the grass of Bridge End Gardens with a hangover. It turned out his “friends” had woken up earlier and just left without him.
But half way through Year 11 everything changed. A new girl arrived in his class. She quickly noticed him and they began talking. For the first time, he experienced true love. The times he was with her were the only times he felt like he wasn't alone. She gave him a reason to live. Together they formed a new friendship group at school from people who shared interests with them, and he passed his GCSEs with good grades. Andrew and Alice went to the same 6th Form College, then studied together at Cambridge.
He finally belonged.
---
I know, I can't compete :-)
---
Andrew had never belonged. He was born on the other side of the world, but his parents had somehow concluded that ripping him away from the few friends he had made at age 5 and emigrating across two continents would be good for him. Better education and less crime, they claimed.
9 years later he was sitting on an empty hilltop just outside a small rural town in North Essex, feeling more alone than he ever had done before in his short life. Watching the sun set, the mist settle on the fields, and the stars spinning as the earth moved through space was comforting to him somehow.
He wished he could be back sitting on a beach in Cape Town where he had been born with his parents and relatives. Maybe if he hadn't been forced to change schools four times before his parents finally settled somewhere, if he opened up to people and didn't spend so much time alone, if he had more friends, or found a soul mate -- perhaps then he could belong.
But he retreated into what he loved doing. He spent hours on end sitting alone in his tiny bedroom carving intricate figurines out of stone or soap. He had drawers and shelves full of them. He rarely invited anyone round, and when he did, they usually left with a stranger impression of him than when they had arrived. His parents was concerned, but there was little she could do.
At one point he tried belonging in church. He clung onto his religion, his belief in a God providing hope in his otherwise miserable life. But the people there, despite being friendly as he had expected, never actually seemed to care about him. He prayed with them and sung their songs, but as much as he wanted to believe there was a God, if he was there, God never spoke to Andrew. He was living a lie.
Two years later his parents split up. Sitting alone on his bed carving, listening to his parents screaming at eachother downstairs, just caused him to retreat further into himself. He blamed himself for everything, for how he looked and felt and acted, and for the fact that his parents didn't love eachother anymore. He became more and more depressed, his self-esteem lessening by the week. He hated every beautiful day.
Before then he had excelled at school. In years 8 and 9 a few of his teachers had actively cared about the subject they were teaching, and he'd felt that he had managed to connect with them. But when GCSEs came around, and his dad departed from his life, something inside him changed.
Before then he had always been a good student. He had predicted A* grades in most subjects. But now he stopped putting any effort in at school -- he stopped putting his hand up for questions he knew the answer to, he made enemies out of some of his teachers, and at home he stopped carving.
He stopped caring.
During this change he attracted the attention of a group of people at school who had previously regarded him as a geek. They quickly accepted him into their group, but when he was with them out of school they'd always end up getting drunk out of their minds. Somehow when he was drunk, and laughing, he felt less alone. More than anything in the world he craved that feeling. He wanted to know that there was at least someone out there who cared about him and loved him.
At last he thought he belonged somewhere. But inside, he knew that he was just as alone as he had always been. These people didn't respect him as a person, they just spent time with him because he had the means to pay for their habit. But he carried on, still seeking attention, taking more and more risks in his drunken exploits. Once he found himself waking sprawled half-naked across the grass of Bridge End Gardens with a hangover. It turned out his “friends” had woken up earlier and just left without him.
But half way through Year 11 everything changed. A new girl arrived in his class. She quickly noticed him and they began talking. For the first time, he experienced true love. The times he was with her were the only times he felt like he wasn't alone. She gave him a reason to live. Together they formed a new friendship group at school from people who shared interests with them, and he passed his GCSEs with good grades. Andrew and Alice went to the same 6th Form College, then studied together at Cambridge.
He finally belonged.
---
I know, I can't compete :-)
Do. I'm fed up not knowing you guys that well. :0D
Insomnia wrote:
"So there's no competing, but it competes? ;-)"
Better explain that a bit more then. :0D
I write:
"There ain't no competing on these forums."
Gives you no idea how good it is, even though it's the truth.
So I tell you:
"It DOES compete."
To tell you that it's just as good as anything else on here.
Basically: Don't worry about being better, because you're a great writer, and if you worry about that, you'll find it difficult to write.
Personally, I think most of my stuff I write is crap, but I just post it anyway.
"So there's no competing, but it competes? ;-)"
Better explain that a bit more then. :0D
I write:
"There ain't no competing on these forums."
Gives you no idea how good it is, even though it's the truth.
So I tell you:
"It DOES compete."
To tell you that it's just as good as anything else on here.
Basically: Don't worry about being better, because you're a great writer, and if you worry about that, you'll find it difficult to write.
Personally, I think most of my stuff I write is crap, but I just post it anyway.
Ending should definatly been drawn out a bit more. It was kind of like writing 'Oh, and by the way, he lived happily ever after'.
Thats constructive critism, I hope. Better than what I could write.
Thats constructive critism, I hope. Better than what I could write.
1) I don't think there's any real competing here... :0) Bar gad, but that's just "what Snuggly prefers"... :0D
2) It DOES compete. That was great to read, hit me square on... connected with a lot of that.
2) It DOES compete. That was great to read, hit me square on... connected with a lot of that.
I don't usually write, but here goes..
---
Andrew had never belonged. He was born on the other side of the world, but his parents had somehow concluded that ripping him away from the few friends he had made at age 5 and emigrating across two continents would be good for him. Better education and less crime, they claimed.
9 years later he was sitting on an empty hilltop just outside a small rural town in North Essex, feeling more alone than he ever had done before in his short life. Watching the sun set, the mist settle on the fields, and the stars spinning as the earth moved through space was comforting to him somehow.
He wished he could be back sitting on a beach in Cape Town where he had been born with his parents and relatives. Maybe if he hadn't been forced to change schools four times before his parents finally settled somewhere, if he opened up to people and didn't spend so much time alone, if he had more friends, or found a soul mate -- perhaps then he could belong.
But he retreated into what he loved doing. He spent hours on end sitting alone in his tiny bedroom carving intricate figurines out of stone or soap. He had drawers and shelves full of them. He rarely invited anyone round, and when he did, they usually left with a stranger impression of him than when they had arrived. His parents was concerned, but there was little she could do.
At one point he tried belonging in church. He clung onto his religion, his belief in a God providing hope in his otherwise miserable life. But the people there, despite being friendly as he had expected, never actually seemed to care about him. He prayed with them and sung their songs, but as much as he wanted to believe there was a God, if he was there, God never spoke to Andrew. He was living a lie.
Two years later his parents split up. Sitting alone on his bed carving, listening to his parents screaming at eachother downstairs, just caused him to retreat further into himself. He blamed himself for everything, for how he looked and felt and acted, and for the fact that his parents didn't love eachother anymore. He became more and more depressed, his self-esteem lessening by the week. He hated every beautiful day.
Before then he had excelled at school. In years 8 and 9 a few of his teachers had actively cared about the subject they were teaching, and he'd felt that he had managed to connect with them. But when GCSEs came around, and his dad departed from his life, something inside him changed.
Before then he had always been a good student. He had predicted A* grades in most subjects. But now he stopped putting any effort in at school -- he stopped putting his hand up for questions he knew the answer to, he made enemies out of some of his teachers, and at home he stopped carving.
He stopped caring.
During this change he attracted the attention of a group of people at school who had previously regarded him as a geek. They quickly accepted him into their group, but when he was with them out of school they'd always end up getting drunk out of their minds. Somehow when he was drunk, and laughing, he felt less alone. More than anything in the world he craved that feeling. He wanted to know that there was at least someone out there who cared about him and loved him.
At last he thought he belonged somewhere. But inside, he knew that he was just as alone as he had always been. These people didn't respect him as a person, they just spent time with him because he had the means to pay for their habit. But he carried on, still seeking attention, taking more and more risks in his drunken exploits. Once he found himself waking sprawled half-naked across the grass of Bridge End Gardens with a hangover. It turned out his “friends” had woken up earlier and just left without him.
But half way through Year 11 everything changed. A new girl arrived in his class. She quickly noticed him and they began talking. For the first time, he experienced true love. The times he was with her were the only times he felt like he wasn't alone. She gave him a reason to live. Together they formed a new friendship group at school from people who shared interests with them, and he passed his GCSEs with good grades. Andrew and Alice went to the same 6th Form College, then studied together at Cambridge.
He finally belonged.
---
I know, I can't compete :-)
---
Andrew had never belonged. He was born on the other side of the world, but his parents had somehow concluded that ripping him away from the few friends he had made at age 5 and emigrating across two continents would be good for him. Better education and less crime, they claimed.
9 years later he was sitting on an empty hilltop just outside a small rural town in North Essex, feeling more alone than he ever had done before in his short life. Watching the sun set, the mist settle on the fields, and the stars spinning as the earth moved through space was comforting to him somehow.
He wished he could be back sitting on a beach in Cape Town where he had been born with his parents and relatives. Maybe if he hadn't been forced to change schools four times before his parents finally settled somewhere, if he opened up to people and didn't spend so much time alone, if he had more friends, or found a soul mate -- perhaps then he could belong.
But he retreated into what he loved doing. He spent hours on end sitting alone in his tiny bedroom carving intricate figurines out of stone or soap. He had drawers and shelves full of them. He rarely invited anyone round, and when he did, they usually left with a stranger impression of him than when they had arrived. His parents was concerned, but there was little she could do.
At one point he tried belonging in church. He clung onto his religion, his belief in a God providing hope in his otherwise miserable life. But the people there, despite being friendly as he had expected, never actually seemed to care about him. He prayed with them and sung their songs, but as much as he wanted to believe there was a God, if he was there, God never spoke to Andrew. He was living a lie.
Two years later his parents split up. Sitting alone on his bed carving, listening to his parents screaming at eachother downstairs, just caused him to retreat further into himself. He blamed himself for everything, for how he looked and felt and acted, and for the fact that his parents didn't love eachother anymore. He became more and more depressed, his self-esteem lessening by the week. He hated every beautiful day.
Before then he had excelled at school. In years 8 and 9 a few of his teachers had actively cared about the subject they were teaching, and he'd felt that he had managed to connect with them. But when GCSEs came around, and his dad departed from his life, something inside him changed.
Before then he had always been a good student. He had predicted A* grades in most subjects. But now he stopped putting any effort in at school -- he stopped putting his hand up for questions he knew the answer to, he made enemies out of some of his teachers, and at home he stopped carving.
He stopped caring.
During this change he attracted the attention of a group of people at school who had previously regarded him as a geek. They quickly accepted him into their group, but when he was with them out of school they'd always end up getting drunk out of their minds. Somehow when he was drunk, and laughing, he felt less alone. More than anything in the world he craved that feeling. He wanted to know that there was at least someone out there who cared about him and loved him.
At last he thought he belonged somewhere. But inside, he knew that he was just as alone as he had always been. These people didn't respect him as a person, they just spent time with him because he had the means to pay for their habit. But he carried on, still seeking attention, taking more and more risks in his drunken exploits. Once he found himself waking sprawled half-naked across the grass of Bridge End Gardens with a hangover. It turned out his “friends” had woken up earlier and just left without him.
But half way through Year 11 everything changed. A new girl arrived in his class. She quickly noticed him and they began talking. For the first time, he experienced true love. The times he was with her were the only times he felt like he wasn't alone. She gave him a reason to live. Together they formed a new friendship group at school from people who shared interests with them, and he passed his GCSEs with good grades. Andrew and Alice went to the same 6th Form College, then studied together at Cambridge.
He finally belonged.
---
I know, I can't compete :-)