My mother had ebony black hair and electric blue eyes, just like me. Just by walking in, she lit up the room. She was probably my favorite person in the world.
She worked at the Hospital as a day nurse, but my father and I said she should have been a motivational speaker, because my mother has an amazing way with words. She has inspired so many people, that I had lost count years ago.
The way she speaks just makes you want to make a difference, makes you want to do something that counts. Whenever someone just gives up or quits, my mother would be there, just talking away, changing someone’s life.
It wasn’t just that though. She didn’t just change your mind about something. She showed you that someone cared. That she was there, whenever someone needed her, and I think that is why she worked so well. Just knowing that you had support can make a huge difference, and that’s why people loved her so much. She showed someone was there.
As my mother walked inside the kitchen, going through the back door, she set her purse on the island and started searching the cupboard for something she could make for dinner. Always working, always on the move, she was.
“Hey Mom, how was work?” I asked and I guess my mother hadn’t noticed me, because she was startled by my question. She whirled around with her hand on her heart. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were wide.
“Oh, Hun, I didn’t even see you there! You startled me!” She exclaimed, but when she slowed her heart rate, and calmed down, she smiled. “How was your day?” she asked.
I hesitated with my answer. Could I tell my mother I had lost the race? I didn’t plan on telling anybody. I was a great liar, and an amazing avoider, (or so I’ve been told), but there was something more than it being to embarrassing to tell. Elliot had found out, and I remembered how my heart dropped just trying to tell him. Then I imagined trying to tell her, and it made my whole mood come down.
She noticed the preoccupation in my expression. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“Nothing. It was a really boring day, I went to the Commons, then came home.” I said emptily, fighting the urge to tell her everything. There were some new problems with our vacation. I didn’t have the car, OR the money. Shouldn’t I tell her that? No, No I shouldn’t.
“Have you gotten the chance to pack for your little vacation?” She asked while taking out a little box of Mac-and–cheese for dinner.
I smiled sheepishly. If there was one thing I didn’t get from my mother, was that ability to plan. I was a procrastinator, not to mention a planner. I wasn’t much of a preparer either. I just went with whatever happened, while my mom, on the other hand, planned and prepared weeks ahead, making endless and countless lists. Lists that said what to pack, what to eat, and when to stop driving for a lunch break. She would’ve made notes that explained directions, and routes. Everything that could be planned would be.
The only thing was; Elliot said that we would do this all on our own. I have no clue what he was talking about when he said that, because if it were me, our mother would have planned the entire thing, and we would be using her car, but Elliot had some sort of pride thing. He wanted to test himself. He was a smart person, in fact, the smartest in his grade, but for some reason, he was also setting up more challenges, and more problems.
In any case, I still didn’t pack. “No, not yet.” I finally replied, after a long hesitation.
My mother tilted her head to the side, barely side-tracked by this new information. “Okay, well, at least start tonight, or tomorrow morning.”
“Okay.” I said as I watched my mother cook our dinner.
After a few minutes of silence, I heard the front door slam close and my father calling out.
“Hello?” He said in his booming voice, which echoed through the house.
“In here Roy!” My mother replied, wiping off the wooden spoon she was using for stirring, and putting it in the sink.
My father walked into the kitchen and set his weatherman briefcase on the island, next to my mother’s bag. He looked almost exactly like Elliot, with his mahogany brown hair and frost blue eyes. He smiled a lot, but was probably the exact opposite of mom.
With him, cheering someone up, was as effortless and smiling. Though he didn’t say much, he said enough with one smile. Like my mom’s words, it showed that everything was going to be okay. That was definitely something I needed to know, right now.
“How were your days?” he asked us.
“Fine.” I answered shortly, trying to get off this subject. He shot me a confused look, while my mother handed me a pile of dishes and silverware, for the dinner table.
After dinner I went to bed and fell slowly asleep.
PS the race thing is just something. You can ignore it. PLUS DONT BE TOO MEAN
I wro
READERS/WRITERS: What do you think of this little scene I put together?
It's ok but cut your descriptions of how wonderful mom and dad are. If you put it in, it needs to be backed up by the story, and so far they haven't done anything special.
READERS/WRITERS: What do you think of this little scene I put together?
Well It's quite realistic .I believe that all you're explaining here is a scenario of your daily routine!I like it .Even though you might want to describe the characters more.
Okay, your writing style isn't exactly perfect.
Its like 'I went upstairs and jumped on my bed. Mom came home. I went downstairs' Too many I did this, I did that, you need to describe things ALOT more.
The writing is amateur, and it needs an extreme amount of work. However, practise makes perfect!
Your grammar and punctuation is fine from what I read, and I don't think you need to change that, but take on board what I said before and this story would be ok.
Good luck!
cute :)
Its a good story. Its extremely realistic! I an a little confused about who Elliot is, though. And what little vacation is she taking? Its quite good! I can't wait to read more!
