Please read the following and tell me what you think. Please, do not criticize because of your personal preferences. Like if you don't like the genre, or the feeling of it, don't criticize. Thanks 
So I was trying to get a certain feeling; my inspiration was Donnie Darko.
Please tell me what you think!!
It was Five in the morning when Sarah Jennings woke and stretched her aching arms to the ceiling. The house was quite, nothing but the inconsistent whir of the heater breaking the early morning peace.
She pulled her red galoshes on, squashing her hair into a brown beanie and stuffing her arms into a wool sweater, still cold from lying on the wooden floor. She hung my old camera around her neck last, adjusting it over her clothing and pulling her hair out from underneath the strap.
The floorboards creaked as Sarah walked down the hall, peeking into John and Emily’s room as she passed. John had his blanket over his head, trying to hold all of the warmth he could in his blankets. Emily’s blankets were tucked under her chin, her cheeks a rosy red from the cold.
Sarah hurried down the stairs and to the door, carefully opening it and letting in the late November air. I wouldn’t know if it was chilly, but her cheeks grew red.
The streets were just as quiet as the house as we walked beside the docks, watching the calm blue ocean break against the wearing wood. Grey fog crept up from the water, spilling onto the road around her. I glanced at her as she pulled my camera up to her eye, squinting through the dirty glass at the road in front of her. She quickly pushed down and let the camera fall back to her chest.
She climbed the short fence into the elementary school, crossing the dewy field until she hit the playground.
Goosebumps broke out on her neck as we entered our favorite spot. The ghost of life was prominent as it ruffled the trees and moved the red swings around her, but it was me that twirled my bony fingers into her hair and left a cold, misty kiss on her cheek. My memories of the little boy I once knew brought him to life as I stood in silence beside her. A giggle came from the swing set, and the ghost of a little boy she once knew ran towards the forest. With fumbling fingers she took a picture of her best friend disappearing into the darkness. She didn’t know that that little boy wasn’t real anymore. Only I was, only I was real.
She gulped, shaking her head to take her thoughts off of its gloomy trail.
“Crazy Sarah. Crazy. He’s not there.” She whispered to herself. That sentence was slowly becoming her mantra.
She set her camera on the jungle gym, facing the worn out swing set. With the timer light flashing red she hurried back to sit in the faded red seat, and I followed, standing behind her. She set a half smile on her lips, focusing on the black lens.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, but instead of the cold, small hand she felt before, when she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, Sarah felt a large, freezing hand. A shiver ran down her spine, but the pressure on her shoulder went away before she could act on it. I dropped my hand to my side and stared at the camera, feeling irrationally unwanted.
The camera flashed.
She retrieved her camera and I let her lead as she headed across the small field, towards the woods behind it. The wind rustled the leaves and blew her hair into her face, swirling around her body as she walked. The faint smell of vanilla wafted to my nose.
“Do you remember me? Do you? It wasn’t that long ago… I know you still see me in your dreams.” I whispered in her ear, tired of the silence I’ve endured for so long. I knew that this wasn’t right, it wasn’t good to talk to her, but I had to.
The whisper broke through the silence, making Goosebumps appear on her skin. She was afraid.
She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching into her pocket desperately for her pills. My hands balled into fists, and anger washed over me.
But alas, her pocket was empty of anything but lint.
She inspected the ground for our hidden dirt path, finally spotting it and heading into the pine trees. She pointed my camera up towards the canopy, capturing the dim glow of the morning sun filtering in through the branches. The fog had almost dissipated here, it swirled along the floor only in the darkness, dying in the sunlight, like many things that haunted me.
I had more, but I exceeded the limit.
So I was trying to get a certain feeling; my inspiration was Donnie Darko.
Please tell me what you think!!
It was Five in the morning when Sarah Jennings woke and stretched her aching arms to the ceiling. The house was quite, nothing but the inconsistent whir of the heater breaking the early morning peace.
She pulled her red galoshes on, squashing her hair into a brown beanie and stuffing her arms into a wool sweater, still cold from lying on the wooden floor. She hung my old camera around her neck last, adjusting it over her clothing and pulling her hair out from underneath the strap.
The floorboards creaked as Sarah walked down the hall, peeking into John and Emily’s room as she passed. John had his blanket over his head, trying to hold all of the warmth he could in his blankets. Emily’s blankets were tucked under her chin, her cheeks a rosy red from the cold.
Sarah hurried down the stairs and to the door, carefully opening it and letting in the late November air. I wouldn’t know if it was chilly, but her cheeks grew red.
The streets were just as quiet as the house as we walked beside the docks, watching the calm blue ocean break against the wearing wood. Grey fog crept up from the water, spilling onto the road around her. I glanced at her as she pulled my camera up to her eye, squinting through the dirty glass at the road in front of her. She quickly pushed down and let the camera fall back to her chest.
She climbed the short fence into the elementary school, crossing the dewy field until she hit the playground.
Goosebumps broke out on her neck as we entered our favorite spot. The ghost of life was prominent as it ruffled the trees and moved the red swings around her, but it was me that twirled my bony fingers into her hair and left a cold, misty kiss on her cheek. My memories of the little boy I once knew brought him to life as I stood in silence beside her. A giggle came from the swing set, and the ghost of a little boy she once knew ran towards the forest. With fumbling fingers she took a picture of her best friend disappearing into the darkness. She didn’t know that that little boy wasn’t real anymore. Only I was, only I was real.
She gulped, shaking her head to take her thoughts off of its gloomy trail.
“Crazy Sarah. Crazy. He’s not there.” She whispered to herself. That sentence was slowly becoming her mantra.
She set her camera on the jungle gym, facing the worn out swing set. With the timer light flashing red she hurried back to sit in the faded red seat, and I followed, standing behind her. She set a half smile on her lips, focusing on the black lens.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, but instead of the cold, small hand she felt before, when she thought her mind was playing tricks on her, Sarah felt a large, freezing hand. A shiver ran down her spine, but the pressure on her shoulder went away before she could act on it. I dropped my hand to my side and stared at the camera, feeling irrationally unwanted.
The camera flashed.
She retrieved her camera and I let her lead as she headed across the small field, towards the woods behind it. The wind rustled the leaves and blew her hair into her face, swirling around her body as she walked. The faint smell of vanilla wafted to my nose.
“Do you remember me? Do you? It wasn’t that long ago… I know you still see me in your dreams.” I whispered in her ear, tired of the silence I’ve endured for so long. I knew that this wasn’t right, it wasn’t good to talk to her, but I had to.
The whisper broke through the silence, making Goosebumps appear on her skin. She was afraid.
She squeezed her eyes shut, reaching into her pocket desperately for her pills. My hands balled into fists, and anger washed over me.
But alas, her pocket was empty of anything but lint.
She inspected the ground for our hidden dirt path, finally spotting it and heading into the pine trees. She pointed my camera up towards the canopy, capturing the dim glow of the morning sun filtering in through the branches. The fog had almost dissipated here, it swirled along the floor only in the darkness, dying in the sunlight, like many things that haunted me.
I had more, but I exceeded the limit.