Short story

[Charlie the wallflower]

This is the beginning of something I've been working on, Id really appreciate any feedback, and dont be afraid to tell me whats terrible in it?


In books, people always start off with a philosophy on how they view the world, or an indication of what the book will be about, or a funny story that draws the reader in and makes them ‘drop their guard’ but this book doesn’t, and Im glad. Sometimes when I read a book I feel like the writer is following a formula that all writers must do or they cant go to the big writer Christmas party, or sit with the other writers at lunch or something,. Anyhow, this is about me and so I should be allowed to write anyway I want, My name is Mark, Im 17 and today was my first day.

First day can mean many things, like when my dad moved us from where we used to live to here, that was our first day at our new house, or when my dad started his new job, that was his first day doing his new job, or when my aunt says she’s on a new diet but eats fast food anyway, that’s because its her first day of her diet, (and not because she has zero self-control). But as this is about me and not about my aunt, (which unless you’re interested in hearing how some celebrity lost 50 pounds by not eating anything that begins with a vowel, is a good thing) today was my first day at my new school. It’s funny how, no matter where you are, no matter if at one school the principal talks like he is having a panic attack and a stroke simultaneously, or if the last time you went to school the leaves crunched as you walked on them and this time you had to take off your coat because you were so warm, no matter the differences everything is pretty much the same. My new form teacher Mrs Chambers is less than delightful, she seems like one of those teachers who hate being a teacher, as if everyone got to the career sign up booth before them and teacher was the only one with a vacancy. She made me stand at the front of the class and tell them my name and where I moved from, I felt like one of those people I’ve read about, who refused to fight in a war and so were tied to a post and left to be shot at, also my classmates looked about as interested in me as they were in what kind of brick the school was made out of, or maybe some were interested in that, in which case they were even less interested in me. So I just took the best empty seat I could find. In reality choosing which seat to take is a massive decision, it can lead to meeting a new life-long companion or nemesis or a future spouse, it can give you a better view in the class, allow information to enter your brain quicker and thus do better in exams, giving you a better job and a better life (my mum says I overthink things, I don’t know why), really these are all factors that mean such a decision must be a finely balanced series of calculations and permutations, but everyone was looking at me, so I just chose the one next to a window. The boy who sat beside me looked like someone, but I wasn’t sure who, I just suppose everyone who is the boy who sits beside someone looks the same, I know that doesn’t make much sense, but it does to me. Anyway I found out when the teacher was calling role that the boy was called Josh ,which I was glad because he looked like a Josh, theres nothing worse than someone who doesn’t look like their name, in fact Im almost sure I would have hated him right there and then if he was called Frank, or David or Ezekiel or something. But he wasn’t, so after class I decided to talk to him, but I couldn’t think of anything to say, I mean you cant just walk up to someone and say “Hi, if you were called Frank, I would hate you, but you’re not, you’re called Josh, so let’s be friends”, even I know that would be a bad start. So instead, I just decided in my mind that when I found a better topic than approval of his name I would strike up a conversation.

Being new in a school is hard, its not like all those films where people call you “newbie” and then ‘Knuckles’ the school bully gives you a swirly, it’s the complete opposite, in fact I think I would prefer that, everyone just kind of ignores you. There’s only one thing I can compare to it, about five years ago my brother Kyle died, he was sick for a long time, so we had “prepared” for it as my mum says, but you cant really prepare for things like that, its like trying to prepare for war with a slice of toast and oven gloves, what Im trying to say is you cant prepare for something when you have nothing to defend yourself against it, no matter how long you have. Once he died, we had a funeral, my whole family was there, we’re quite a close family really, but everyone looked at me like I was invisible, my uncle who would always greet me by telling me how tall I was, (“If you were any longer you would be late”) didn’t even say hi, my mum didn’t even tell me off that I had done my tie too thin or my shoes were dirty, she just asked everyone if they needed another drink or more food, she didn’t even cry, she just looked pale, she looked like if you baked someone a special birthday cake, but they never even ate it, they didn’t even blow out the candles they just burned until they ran out. Of course I didn’t blame anyone for not acknowledging me, they were all wrapped up in their own grief, and its hard to tease someone about their height or tell someone they look like they had been out planting potatoes all day when you’re wrapped in grief. But that’s how my first day felt, everyone just walked through me. Its strange, I’ve always found that the more people Im with the lonelier I feel, if you’re with one or two people who really get you, then you feel like the whole world gets you, but if you’re with a hundred people who don’t look at you, you feel as if no one in the whole world will ever get you. Ultimately that first day I felt sad when I got home, I do often feel sad, but this time it was different, it was the kind of sad where you cant quite put a reason to the cause, I mean I was sad that I hadn’t talked to anyone, but there was something more than that, I felt like if I had a hundred years to think about it, I would never discover the why I felt like this.

The next day I talked to Josh, I still hadn’t found a very good way to start talking so I just asked him if he knew where my English class was, I already knew but I honestly had no other idea of how to start a conversation. He told me it was on the second floor and the third door on the right, I had somehow counted on spontaneously devising a conversation following his response, but the best I could offer was “Uh…yea thanks..um..do..thanks”, honest to God, sometimes I have the conversational skills of a boiled egg. So I just turned and walked away, at that moment I felt like I could never hold a conversation with anyone ever again, I felt like I might as well walk up to people and bark in their face instead of actually attempting to speak English. Incidentally my English class was musty as hell, it smelt like it had been kept in a cupboard for about 75 years, and my teacher, Mrs Brown looked like she had been kept with it. However there’s one sure way to remedy a musty English class, or a second introduction in front of a less than enthused class, or tripping on the way down from the front of the class and hearing laughter that Hyena’s couldn’t muster. ‘That girl’. Now, every person has their own way of describing the first time they see ‘that girl’ and in every book, every character describes this girl and swears that she is the pinnacle of female evolution, but believe me when I say this girl was different. She had long blonde hair, that curled out at the ends, like when I was young and my granddad would take me to the beach on holiday and I would watch the waves curl right before they crashed onto the beach. Her eyes could never seem to decide whether they were green or blue, if you ever stole a glimpse they seemed to have change colour since the last time you looked but everytime you looked at them you swore they looked better green than they did blue or better blue than they did green. No matter what colour, there was always a warmness, they say eyes are the window to the soul, and if that’s true than she left her windows open and was inviting you to climb inside, it was as if she held a tiny essence of pure joy in her pupil and passed it off as merely a sparkle. If I was into cliché’s I would say it was love at first sight, but I don’t like Cliché’s (although sometimes they have a habit of forcing themselves in) so lets just say it was infatuation at first sight, really strong infatuation that other more cliché favoured individuals would call love.

This time no complex considerations were needed, I eyed the seat beside her like my uncle John and the last slice of Turkey at Christmas, however I sat down so fast I made a massive thud that caused all eyes to turn my way, things were off to a terrific start, really I imagine James Bond makes entrances like that, pressed suit, Martini in one hand and then nearly falling off the side of his chair like my bones were made of porridge, I bet that’s what gets the girls to go mad. Now, it may surprise you to learn but I am not all that knowledgeable about the female sex (no, really!) so making a first move was something of a test. At first I remembered what my older brother Steve had once told me, Steve is now in College, though my mum says he might as well drop out as he’s seen more beer cans than he has books this year. Although sometimes I think my mum just misses having him around, the house has gotten a lot quieter in the year he’s been gone, granted all that the silence has replaced was arguments or “heated discussions” as my dad calls them, but sometimes silence can make more of an impact than all the “heated discussions” in the world. Steve once told me, “If you ever see a girl you like, ignore her, don’t even give her a hint of how much you like her, trust me girls go mad for that, they like a guy to be a challenge”. I wasn’t sure if this was true or not, if so then I was in luck, as challenges go I was a rubix cube to a blind man. I also quite favoured this plan as it was almost directly in line with the “sit nervously and pretend to be invisible” tactic I had employed quite numerously before. So all through English I sat and ignored her, and ignored her, and ignored her some more, I was so good at it, it was almost as if she genuinely hadn’t noticed me once or had no interest in me whatsoever, what an actress! If nothing else, the afternoon proved an exercise in self-discipline and restraint, my pupils almost burned with desire to steal a look to my right, if ever those Tibetan monks need a real challenge, they should try sitting beside a girl like this and not giving her a moments attention. The class itself was strange, our teacher Miss Chambers, was something of an ‘eccentric’, well perhaps that doesn’t do it justice, an eccentric is someone who would probably name their cat after their favourite celebrity, this was a woman who would dress it up like that celebrity and take it to a restaurant.


So yea thats all I've got so far, is it worth continuing?

[GoneBeyondRepair]

i think its off to a good start, but there are many many runon sentences. im not sure if thats how you intedned it, but my personal opinion is that you should fix them. runon sentences are kinda a pet-peeve of mine, so thats one of the main things that stuck in my head as i was reading this
also, the first paragraph (i think you intended that to be the first paragraph? not to sure.. im talking about the 'In books, people always start off..'), i found it kind of.. awkward. even im not too sure what i mean by that, but if that IS part of your story (which i think it is..?) id either fix it up a tad, or just get rid of it all together.
but overal, i think it could turn out pretty good