First draft, be brutally honest...

[Cynder]

I have had this idea for a while now... These two characters are pretty well developed in my head. This is kind of a prolog to later events. They will meet again.

 

And, this is only a first draft, written tonight in all of an hour. Enjoy. (And if you don't enjoy, feel free to rip me apart. I love a good critique.

 

*****

 

"So I'll see you in two weeks, Kimberly." Dr. Shmidt smiled at the adolescent girl, seated accross from him in the small office. She was a thin girl with chin length hair dyed blue-black. She wore all black clothing and black Converse tennis shoes.

 

 

"Yea." Kimberly said softly.

 

 

"I'll need to talk to your mother for a few minutes before you go."

 

 

"Ok." she answered, smiling back at him.

 

 

Her mother was outside the door waiting to go in. Kimberly passed without speaking, on her way to the waiting room.

 

 

The waiting room appeared empty as she exited the long hallway. The receptionist had gone home and an eerie quiet had settled in the office. The she noticed a dark clad man, seated in the corner.

 

 

He wore black jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. The hood was pulled up, slightly concealing his face, but long blond hair spilled from beneath it like a golden waterfall. She could not see his eyes but wondered for a second if he was asleep. He sat so perfectly still, his head tilted down.

 

 

One of Kimberly's favorite things to do was make up stories. She was told she had a vivd imagination by, well, everyone. She didn't see anything wrong with it, but others did. In the past when she was waiting a long time to see Dr. Shmidt, she would alleviate her boredom by making up stories about the people in the waiting room. There was the grown wmoan she saw once, who was morbidly obese, with her hair in ratty pigtails, carrying a cabbage patch doll. Kimberly decided she must have killed her husband, but got off on an insanity plea and now thought she was a child. And then there was the man who sat in the office quietly rocking back and forth and holding back his tears. She imagined his wife just left him for another man and he was crushed.

 

 

But, most people in this office seed normal enough. Se wondered if anyone sitting there ever made up stories about her while she sat waiting.

 

 

But this man seemed different. It would be hard coming up with a story for him. She kept her eyes on him and she made her way to a seat, watching for some sign of life. She sat accross from him. As she sat, he lifted his head slightly, and for a split second their eyes met. She almost was startled by the site of his face. His eyes were so strikingly blue, framed by an angelic, handsome face. She stepped back and stared for a second or two, then felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her.

 

 

Now that he had seen her she felt like she had to speak. Impulsively she blurted out, "Your hair's really long. Mine used to be that long but my Mom made me get it cut."

 

 

He looked at her inquisitively, "That stinks."

 

 

His voice was deep, but his way of speech was odd and foreign. "You talk funny." she said quickly, and then put her hand up to her mouth. What was she thinking?

 

 

"Yes." he said softly, "I am from another country. I didn't grow up speaking English."

 

 

"Where did you grow up?"

 

 

"accross the ocean."

 

 

"You're really handsome. Does everyone accross the ocean look like you?"

 

Now it seemed he was the embarrassed one. He laughed softly and looked away.

 

"I'm always afraid of coming here because I'm afraid of being locked up in a home."

 

 

"I wouldn't worry about that, " he said, leaning forward a little, "They only lock people up who are dangerous."

 

 

"My Mom and my teachers say I have an attitude problem."

 

 

"Well I don't see one." He said, giving her the slightest hint at a smile.

 

 

She smiled back, flattered and mildly swooning.

 

 

"Kimberly!" Her mother"s voice shot off like a canon. She jumped up from the chair. "Let's go."

 

 

She turned around and waved while walking away.

 

 

"I told you to never talk to anyone in this office didn't I? Why can't you listen?" She hung her head and her face flushed red. She knew the man could hear her mother. She turned around one more time to see him walking toward Dr. Shmidt in the doorway.

 

 

As they walked out the door she knew she would probably never see this stranger again.

 

 

She sat in the passenger side of her mother's car, watching trees and buildings go by. Suddenly her mother's voice broke the silence, "Kimberly, I don't want you talking to anyone in that office from now on. Some of the people Doctor Schmidt sees are nuts. Now I'm not going to tell you again."

 

 

"But he was nice." she pleaded.

 

 

"How do you know he wasn't a pedophile?"

 

 

"I..." she trailed off, searching for words.

 

 

"See. You don't know. He could have kidnapped you and molested you Kim."

 

 

"Don't call me Kim. I don't like being called Kim."

 

 

"I birthed you. I'll call you what I want." She reached accross the seat and patted Kimberly's dyed black hair. "We're going to wash all this color out of your hair this weekend."

 

 

Kimberly liked her black hair. Though her mother was furious when she dyed it.

 

 

"Twelve is too young to dye your hair. When you're 16 you do what you want with it. You can shave your head for all I care. But now you'll follow my rules."

 

Kimberly nodded slowly. Frustration building deep within her.

 

 

"And no more talking to people in the shrink's office."

 

 

She waited a few seconds and then asked the question she had been dying to ask, "Am I nuts?"

 

 

Her mother turned her head sharply, with a look in her eyes that could have been surprise or anger, "Why would you think that?"

 

 

"Because I see a shrink. And you even said the people Dr. Shmidt sees are nuts."

 

 

Her mother took a deep breath, "You're not nuts. You're different. You just need a little help."

 

 

She turned her head to look back out the window, tears forming in her eyes. Her thoughts drifted back to the stranger in the office. She wondered why he was there. Was he nuts too?

[Cynder]

I just realized a mistake I made... I wrote that Kimberly "stepped back" at one point... after she already sat down. Oops. Oh well. Guess that's why this is a draft.

[blueidealist24]

I liked it.. there are just a couple of things I noticed. In one place, the doctor's name is spelled differently and I think after her mother says "let's go," there are too many instances of "she" and not enough of "Kimberly." Not the whole rest of the way, just until her mother says "...and molested you Kim." Anyway, is this the very beginning? It does make me want to read on and find out more about what happens to Kim.

[Cynder]

Thank you so much for replying.

 

Yea, I did spell the Doctor's name differently a couple times. Those are the kinds of things that are easy to miss, especially when spellcheck doesn't catch them.

 

And you're right... too many 'she's in one part of the story. There are two female characters in this scene and it gets confusing who is who.

 

This is kind of a prolog. So yes, I guess technically that would be the beginning of the story. Kim gets into some interesting stuff later down the line. It's a challenge trying to write the POV of a 2 year old girl.

[blueidealist24]

Before you mentioned it, I imagined her as a little older, but I can see her as 12, too, now.

[SpottiOtti]

I thought it was engaging and only noticed a couple of typos, as mentioned by others. I also imagined her as older than 12 - I was thinking 15 or 16. So how much older was the guy, cause he seemed 19-20 to me?

 

In this part,

 

Her mother was outside the door waiting to go in. Kimberly passed without speaking, on her way to the waiting room.

 

You effectively communicated the tension between mother and daughter. I think "on her way to the waiting room" is unnecessary - we know where she's going. The scene in the car also communicates the tension well.

[Cynder]

I thought it was engaging and only noticed a couple of typos, as mentioned by others. I also imagined her as older than 12 - I was thinking 15 or 16. So how much older was the guy, cause he seemed 19-20 to me?

 

In this part,

 

 

 

You effectively communicated the tension between mother and daughter. I think "on her way to the waiting room" is unnecessary - we know where she's going. The scene in the car also communicates the tension well.

 

The guy is supposed to be in his mid to late 20s. He's quite a bit older then she is. I think I wrote her too old and him too young. I was trying to think of how an adult man would react to a 12 year old girl basically flirting with him. I don't know if I captured the awkwardness well enough, lol.

[Cynder]

...................oops