S
Sairalicious
Guest
I AM 12 1/2 (13 IN ONE MONTH) BY THE WAY
So, for my age, do you think this is okay?
I am supposed to be writing a short story therefore I thought this may be suitable:
Oh my god, I am sorry but that is just disgraceful for someone your age! You are around 15-16 aren't you?
Well, I am 12 (13 in one month) and this is my version of your "story":
Not again...I am awake. As my weary eyes blink to life, I notice I am not on my usual duvet. The floor. I am on the floor!
As I make an attempt to stand up, fatigue and pain overwhelms me as I collapse back down again. I strain my brain in order to find a solution to this eccentric condition. Something else is wrong. I am still in the same clothing from yesterday! I pull up my jeans in apprehension and a horrified look sweeps across my face as I discover several bruises and cuts covering my left leg. Across my hand is a deep cut, perpetually oozing blood. I scan my room for a clue, of any sort that can help me through this predicament. I suddenly recollect Amy. Where is Amy? I start to slowly remember aspects of last night. Amy and I went out together and then the rest was a blur. Near my desk, a bottle of vodka protruding from the top shelf explains half of the question embedded in my mind for the past ten minutes. Now I know why I cant remember anything. I was drunk. The lethal liquid had slowed my nervous system down and now... now I must find out more.
I must fight. I drag my afflicted body for survival. I manage to reach my bed. However, as I pull my blanket, I see a sight that instantly causes a rush of trepidation through my body. Blood...
Rate out of 10 please, and take my age (12 1/2) into account!
So, for my age, do you think this is okay?
I am supposed to be writing a short story therefore I thought this may be suitable:
Oh my god, I am sorry but that is just disgraceful for someone your age! You are around 15-16 aren't you?
Well, I am 12 (13 in one month) and this is my version of your "story":
Not again...I am awake. As my weary eyes blink to life, I notice I am not on my usual duvet. The floor. I am on the floor!
As I make an attempt to stand up, fatigue and pain overwhelms me as I collapse back down again. I strain my brain in order to find a solution to this eccentric condition. Something else is wrong. I am still in the same clothing from yesterday! I pull up my jeans in apprehension and a horrified look sweeps across my face as I discover several bruises and cuts covering my left leg. Across my hand is a deep cut, perpetually oozing blood. I scan my room for a clue, of any sort that can help me through this predicament. I suddenly recollect Amy. Where is Amy? I start to slowly remember aspects of last night. Amy and I went out together and then the rest was a blur. Near my desk, a bottle of vodka protruding from the top shelf explains half of the question embedded in my mind for the past ten minutes. Now I know why I cant remember anything. I was drunk. The lethal liquid had slowed my nervous system down and now... now I must find out more.
I must fight. I drag my afflicted body for survival. I manage to reach my bed. However, as I pull my blanket, I see a sight that instantly causes a rush of trepidation through my body. Blood...
Rate out of 10 please, and take my age (12 1/2) into account!