Post Work in Progress for Peer Review


Welcome to Write It, the home for young writers. Post your works-in-progress and get feedback or give your opinion on your peers’ creative writing. Try a step-by-step writing workshop, then publish your writing online.

You’ve probably noticed we’ve made some changes to the boards! Find the boards for Underground Railroad historical fiction, Science Explorations, Scholastic News, and more right here.

Looking for our boards dedicated to favorite series, authors, and causes? You'll find them on THE STACKS. Head on over for the Buzz Board, Harry Potter, Save the Planet, Goosebumps, and more!
   [ 4 posts ] Average score:  
Author Message
 The Girl In The Little Red Hood: Chapter-1 Part-1

Joined: Sat Oct 17, 2009 3:27 pm
Posts: 829
Sat Dec 10, 2011 11:18 pm
Have you ever broken a plate?

Watching it fall is pure torture to your guilty little eyes, isn’t it?

It seemes to fall in slow motion, hovering int the air as if weightless. When it finally shatters, the pieces leaf out from the point of contact in a jagged, floral way. The crude little triangles lie there, all morbid and wrong. You know for certain that it will never be fixed, and a small part of you will never be the same.

It feels like this when you find out your mother is dead.

“Oh, my dear, my sweet little darling!”

Mrs. Gabriella Blancher had babbled when I arrived home from the library, the nightof November first. I dropped my backpack in shock when I saw her, sipping tea at my kitchen table as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What sort of neighbor lets themselves into your house at 7:00 at night and makes themselves tea?” I wondered to myself.

“The Mrs. Blancher sort.” I promptly answered myself.

Mrs. Blancher was not one of my favorite people. She was my conceited landlord; the woman called me ‘darling’ -in a very indulgent accent- whenever I saw her. She was so condescending that you would think she was the queen of England. One look at her though, and you can see that she is the queen of cosmetics; Appling more of the slime to one of her eyelids then I have ever worn in my life. Being a bimbo by nature, she said all the wrong things at all the wrong times. Whenever my mother and I were blessed enough to have a short-lived conversation with her, we both always seemed to part ways with a sour look on our faces.

So, I was both surprised and slightly disgusted by the fact that she was making herself at home in... Well, our home.

“How did you get in here Mrs. Blancher?” I asked, rather impolitely, I supposed.

“Oh!” the exasperating woman exclaimed again. Her overly penciled eyebrows dancing like caterpillars as she stood to greet me. “My dear! My dear! I bring you some terrible news.”

“Where is my mother Mrs. Blancher?” I said, my impatience with her beginning to show, “You couldn’t have gotten in here without her. So, where is she?”

To tell the truth, I don’t know why I asked about my mother right away. Maybe, even then, I knew that this ‘terrible news’ had something to do with her.

“My sweet darling come sit down.” She said, her red, talon like nails pinching my shoulder and dragging me to my own table. “This is not the sort of news one delivers standing up." Once I was comfortably seated, mrs Blanche took a dramatic breath, like she was on a soap opra.

"Your mother…she…well… she has been in an accident."

The air left my chest as if an anvil had personally pushed it out. This is the kind of this I have my nightmares about, my mother going missing or geting hurt. She was my only real family, and if something were to happen to her, well, I never really let myself get farther then that. Needless to say, I was too fearful to give a response, so my tactless neighbor blazed on.

“Car accidents darling, terrible thing. I don’t keep a car one for that very reason.”

“Neither doses my mother.” I answered feebly; it was all I could think to reply.

“I know darling, your mother…she was in a taxi cab when it happened, city traffic you know, and well…” She trailed off, taking another long sip of her tea.

“What happened to her?” I screamed, suddenly finding my voice again. Questions started flying from my mouth to vent off my overwhelming panic.

“Where was she when she got hit? Where is she now? In the hospital? Is she hurt? How did you find out?”

The woman just stared at me.

“SAY something!” I bellowed. This unfroze her.

“Oh, darling…Well this will be very difficult to say, very difficult indeed. If there was any way I could avoid this…you being so young, so innocent…”

I swallowed huge gulps of air at a time, trying with all of my might to keep from strangling the woman before me.

“Just…say it.” I spat through gritted teeth.

“Your mother has died” Mrs. Blanche blurted.


Mrs. Blancher’s lips were still moving, words and phrases like ‘death on impact’ and ‘hit and run’ still registered in my brain. I was still inlightend of the fact that she had been murdered by an unknow, but organized group of serial killers. I but I had been consumed by the silence.

My mind spiraled in every different direction like a shot bird would fall from the sky. Shaking my head, and I closing my eyes to my apartment around me.

If I could pick what happened next, if I were God I mean, my. My mother, unaware of the cruel prank my evil landlord was playing one me, would walk in just as she always did. Her with short choppy red hair and floral smock from the shop down stairs still tied around her waste. I would run and hug her and tell her what this awful woman had said. She would embrace me, not before giving Lady Blanche an angry look. She would tell me that she loved me, that she’d never leave, me and that everything was all right.

I am not God.

"...And the police have requested that I take you to them immediately, so you can be questioned. They asked me too...break the news." Mrs. Blanche meaningfully glanced at me again, in a feeble imitation of pity.


I was alone in the world, trying not to think about it, and Mrs. Blanche was sending me to the police. They would ask me a million questions I didn't know the answers to, I was sure. Then, once they were though with me, they would send me off, to who knows where. All I kept imagining at the thought of this were walls. Walls keeping things out, and walls keeping me in.

My heart started racing out of control and I felt like someone was squeezing the air from my chest. The claustrophobia I had inherited form my mother was creeping in around me and the edges of my vision were becoming foggy. I rose from my seat and backed up against the peeling wallpaper on the kitchen wall. I felt the other three walls lurch closer, caging me in like a small animal. I felt the oxygen drain from the room and panicked, I needed out, I needed air!

Trying my hardest to breathe, I took one fervent glance at the odious woman in from of me, and I bolted though our old kitchen. Running past the overstuffed chairs in our meager living room and to the door. I knocked the old coat rack from its place next to it but I didn’t care. I kept racing down the dirty stairwell hearing Blanche calling after me from inside, slightly muffled, “Robin! Robin darling, Come back!”

I wasn't stopping for her. Tears mixing with chilled perspiration on my cheeks, I ran through my mother’s flower shop on the ground floor. I was suspired to see that it, unlike me, was left unchanged, when the whole world was turned on end. It was not mourning her like I expected, the flowers weren’t dead in the vases, and velvet curtains weren’t hanging from the front window. I suppose I didn’t really know what to expect anymore. Nevertheless, I swung the door open, its once friendly ding ushered me harshly out into the slushy sleet falling in torrents from the merciless sky. My skin welcomed feeling, even if that feeling was that of the bitterest cold.

“You need to run somewhere, anywhere.” My mind said and, as if on orders, I obediently raced with all of my strength away from the reality that was slowly sinking in and chilling my heart. “There’s one place that would feel safe now,” a more tender part of me uttered “Fey’s house.”

(Thanks for reading!!! part 2 should be up)

 Re: The Girl In The Little Red Hood: Chapter-1 Part-1

Joined: Mon Jun 11, 2007 12:51 pm
Posts: 7835
Sun Dec 18, 2011 8:17 pm
Pretty good! You manage the grief situation pretty well, and the landlady makes a distinct character. My one thing is you need to distinguish thoughts from speech. Where "the mind" says something, try italics, perhaps.
Nice work!

The first noel who laid to rest bring your pipe and come so to honor him

 Re: The Girl In The Little Red Hood: Chapter-1 Part-1

Joined: Thu Apr 29, 2010 10:59 am
Posts: 593
Tue Jan 24, 2012 7:14 pm

Woah. I love your story! It's really good. I can't wait for Part 2!

 Re: The Girl In The Little Red Hood: Chapter-1 Part-1

Joined: Sun Oct 21, 2012 8:14 pm
Posts: 16
Sat Apr 12, 2014 11:54 am
Wow, I think that you did a FANTASTIC job! The way you described everything made me feel as if I were in the story! :)

Display posts from previous:  Sort by  
   [ 4 posts ] Average score:  

PRS © 2008 PRS Team