Sherry
Mann Prom
Date “I
wish I was a bird.” I
sat on the steps of the porch underneath a worn tree that seemed to hold on for
dear life with its knarled and pale brown branches that hung directly over my
head. Off in the distance, I watched a lonely little red bird skip around from
branch to branch moving its frail body. He seemed so richly colored in
comparison with the pale green glistening leaves, but the bush looked like it
would just curdle up and die if the bird did not hurry up and fly away. And it
did. It darted its way to another potential home, which had probably been
sitting there for centuries. The
thick branches that curled toward the sky had lost its brown color, and it
remained scaled like a snake with scales of pale white and insipid green. The
old branches and the twigs wrapped around each other almost eternally. It
reminded me of love that lasted forever. It figures. Only the trees would have
it, I thought. The bird looked around as though puzzled but flew away as soon as
the front door opened. “Hey, what are you doing? Were you talking to yourself?
Something about wanting to be a bird?” said my older sister, Rachel. “Yeah,
well, birds seem to have it so easy. They get to hop around and fly.” “You
know, sometimes you are the strangest thing. Aren’t you about to leave to go
pick up your loser?” “Rachel,
don’t call him that. You don’t even know him,” I replied. “Oh,
I know them kind of guys, and I know them well.” “I’m
sure you do,” I snickered. Rachel
was a lean girl, one of those girls you want to trade bodies with, except you
would want to keep your own head. She was not the brightest girl; well, she just
did not make the brightest decision when it came to down to guys. But here I was
today about to brainlessly pick up a hot date. Rachel
went on describing how the guy should be the one to pick the girl up and that
people seem to have it all backwards these days. It was no wonder that Rachel
would think this. She had been through a lot of sour relationships. “I’m
just thinking. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m just tired of staying in
bed and depressed all day long. I can’t be like this forever,” I said. “You
better be careful. Don’t get desperate and fall into this guy’s arms like
you did Scotty.” “Will
you shut up about Scotty? He’s the last person I want to talk about. I’m
leaving now.” I
was hoping that Brian would take my mind off of Scotty. Scott was my
ex-boyfriend’s name; I would always call him cutey, but he hated it. I guess
he thought it took his manhood away, so I called him Scott with a y. It sounded
close enough to cutey for me anyways; he would not get it. We dated my sophomore
and junior year, but things did not work out for us. He said that he felt that
we should separate because of our differences in beliefs. I was Catholic, and I
strictly believed in abstinence, and he strictly believed in, well, the
opposite. I was taken by surprise when he wanted to break up, but a little voice
would always tell me that something was not right. I took the opportunity to
break up when I could because I knew I would not do it unless he brought it up.
I
knew that senior prom was near, and I was not going to go single. For some
reason, in the back of my mind, I wanted Scotty to see me with another guy. I
would not let him think that I did not know how to initiate another
relationship. I had always told him that I was afraid to talk to other guys
before I met him. We only started dating because my sister did not want to date
him, so she passed him to me. She never really expected or even wanted us to
date. She just selfishly passed him on to me to get rid of him; she simply saw
right through him. She met him as a friend, but he liked her more. She had
already carelessly dated several guys. I never did really figure out why she
thought twice about Scotty. I
arrived at his house, and he sure looked tired. Maybe I should have left when I
called and told him I was on my way. I just have not been myself lately. As soon
as I stepped foot out of the car, he gave me this strangely excited look on his
face. I knew I should have thought this through a little more carefully. My
friends thought we would be a good match because he was “a good boy,” and I
was “a good girl.” However, I was pretty sure this guy had never had a
girlfriend before. His reaction told me enough. “Hey
Brian, sorry for the wait. Are you ready?” “No
problem, I’m ready. Let me tell my dad that I’m leaving.” “Okay.”
This
was strange for me. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. Since then, I had
been living with my grandparents. They gave me so much freedom that I did not
have to worry about telling them when and where I went. They forgot anyways. I
was so used to doing things for myself that it seemed strange when friends made
a big deal about receiving permission, curfews, rules, and whatever else. The
only bad thing that I had to do, when needed, was work. My grandparents were
retired, but they only made enough to barely support themselves. They had just
enough to buy me and my sister second hand clothing and, of course, food and
girl stuff. If I wanted anything else, I had to buy it. That meant I had to
work. Prom was approaching, and I had to have a prom dress. I applied in the
summer to work at Landry’s at the Kemah boardwalk, and I went through the
training. My first day on the floor independently was the following day, and I
would work every weekend. “So
where are we going?” asked Brian. “I
was thinking the mall.” “The
mall? You don’t want to go to the movies?” I
did not like going to the movies. It made me think of Scotty. That was all we
ever did was watch movies. Brian tried again. “What
about the ferry in Galveston? Do you want to go on the ferry?” I
really could not get my mind off of Scotty. That was another one of our special
places where we went to on dates, especially when we were younger and looking
for a cheap place to hang out. “Sure,”
I said. “We’ll go to the movies then make a trip to the ferry.” I might as
well work on getting Scotty off of my mind. I
met Brian through my friends at school. They were tired of me being all
depressed and single, so they tried to match me up with someone. The initiator
of them all was Tessa. She was dating a guy from Texas City, and he had a geeky
but good-looking friend who was single, named Brian. At
the movies, he put his right arm around me, and I sat as stiff as a board. I was
so thankful when we got out of the movies. The sun was already setting when we
left the theater. Brian
seemed to have a goofy look on his face as we walked to the car. “Catherine
Jones is hot,” said Brian. I simply rolled my eyes. He seriously needed some
training with girls. We
got to the ferry, and unfortunately there was a long line. I actually felt silly
in the car next to this guy that I hardly knew. What were we supposed to do? I
could tell he had an idea of what he wanted to do. Out of no where he came up
with the line, “You know what I’m thinking about?” I uninterestingly
answered, “What?” He answered, “How beautiful you are.” He leaned over
toward me and tried to kiss me. I was so grossed out. I mean how lame! I went
ahead and let him drool in my mouth. I needed a date to prom anyways, and I
could use him. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes, my favorite features. He
was tall and well-built, but for some
reason he didn’t quite interest me. However, he and I would look good as a
couple at prom. Later I dropped him off, and I was set for a date for prom. I
just needed a dress. Revision
Account
This was my first fiction piece, so I had a hard time getting started in
deciding what I should write. What inspired me to write this story was when I
looked outside my kitchen window over the sink as I was washing the dishes.
While I was enjoying the scenery outside, I saw a pretty red bird darting its
way around the yard. I thought to myself, this could be a metaphor for a story.
I also took a close look at the trees, which they were quite old and perhaps
rotten. I thought these could be written in some detail for a story. I headed
off to my computer and typed up what I saw.
After I typed up the description, I walked away from it keeping in mind
where I might take the story. I wanted to start the story off with this
appealing description coming from the perspective of one of the characters in
the story. It took me a while to decide who would be the viewer of this
particular scene. At first, I used an unimportant character who was observing
this while waiting for his date to pick him up. However, I wasn’t satisfied,
and the story was not flowing like I wanted it. Therefore, I allowed the main
character to view this scene. By making the protagonist view this scenery, it
helped my story flourish. I
had trouble with point of view. At first, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to
include a third or first person narrator. I decided to use first person narrator
because I wanted the story to uphold a teenager voice, and I felt that the use
of “I” made the story seem more personal for the reader. One problem several
students in the class noted was the use of first person with Brian. They felt it
interrupted the flow, so I changed this to third person. I also added more
comedy in this paragraph as many suggested. I had trouble trying to decide what
to designate the fiction piece. At first I titled the story, Young Love, but it
seemed too austere. A class member suggested the title, Prom Date. I thought it
had potential, so I considered it. I labeled my final version as the suggested
name, but I still hope to devise a more satisfying title. One student questioned
the length of the past relationship between Braunie and Scott. I did not address
this in the story, but I implied that they had dated for several years. To make
it clearer, I later added that they dated in their sophomore and junior years as
Dr. White thought would maintain the language. Just as I fixed several mechanic
issues, I corrected several tense errors in my writing that were addressed in
class. I shifted several times, so I corrected this to create consistency in my
story. Dr. White suggested that it was not absolutely necessary to change all of
the consistency errors because the story contained plain enough language, and it
was coming from the point of view of a teenager—teenagers are not always
consistent thinkers. I ended up changing the verb tenses and writing out several
of the contractions to prevent distractions. I did not fix the shift in tone
because I agreed with Dr. White that it correlated with a teenager’s mind.
Many students felt I lacked a transition when Braunie arrived at Brian’s
house, and the easiest way to fix this problem was moving the new idea to the
next paragraph. Daniel Davis wanted more comedy at the point when the characters
were leaving the theater. I used Daniel’s suggestion of having Brian state an
inappropriate comment at this point. I also took into account that I used a
standard car wreck when explaining the death of the protagonist’s parents.
Instead of providing too much unnecessary information, I briefly mentioned the
death without including any rich details. A few peers in class felt I did not
tie the description in with the story strong enough. However, I didn’t want to
overdo it; I wanted to leave the connection a bit subtle to allow for
imagination. I appreciated Dr.
White’s and a few others defense in how my description did satisfactorily
connect with the story. I
hope I did not take away the impact of the style by changing several of the
consistency problems. I wanted to maintain the “ring of truth” that Dr.
White described. However, I feel that the story still works; at least I
increased the level of intelligence for the protagonist. Now she’s more
suitable for a senior. Writing fiction does require that you maintain
consistency. You have to make sure each character maintains their character,
that the author or narrator does not contradict themselves. I felt I might have
been contradicting myself when dealing with my characters. On the other hand,
teenagers are a bit more complicated than that. I think if I were to stay too
consistent with their descriptions and actions, then I might be at risk of
creating flat characters. If I were to change anything, I might have emailed to
the respondent, Daniel Davis, my final draft to see if he had any further
suggestions or comments. For now, I am happy with my description at the
beginning at the story and how it connects with the protagonist, but I would
like to continue to explore this possible issue by receiving further suggestions
and ideas.
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