King Cotton Socks

It was exactly 5:45 in the morning my eyes reacted to the deafening sirens coming from my ancient, rusted alarm clock that had seen better days. I reached over to take the batteries out of it because the on/off switch had refused to work as I threw it to the wooden floor in a temper some few years ago when it woke me up in the middle of the night. I had been saving up for a new one for the past eight years, ever since I was seven years old. The only income I had was 50p every Christmas from my neighbour as a gift for delivering her cards. My bags were already packed. I didn't have a lot as I knew excessive weight would be a pain to carry all the way. I crept through the house on my tip-toes. The only noise I made was the rubbing of my cotton socks on the red and purple flowered carpet. I placed a note that I had written to my parents on top of the grubby 80's microwave, with the other letters my mother had actually bothered to open. As I highlighted my name in pink fluorescent ink. I had butterflies swirling around in my stomach which made me question myself, “Am I doing the right thing?” My stomach was telling me to stay but my head was telling me to go. I knew that once I had stepped out of that door there was no turning back. I opened the battered fridge door as I was feeling peckish having last eaten before I went to bed last night: a bag of grapes, a slab of mild cheddar cheese, a pack of 6 Mr Kipling lemon slices which I thought was enough for the two of us until I find a place to eat. As I forced the door shut; I heard the floor creaking from upstairs which startles me and made me jump out of my skin so I quickly sprang out of the kitchen door and landed in a muddy puddle, the result of a leaky gutter and last night's heavy rain. I took a last look at what used to be my home then threw the keys onto the cracked concrete slab abutting the door.

My eyelids soon jumped open as wide as they possibly could. I pulled myself out of bed like I did everyday as I dreaded that 9 hour shift that I had ahead of me. I slipped my feet into my slippers cringing as the velvet rubbed against my skin. Jacob, my husband was still fast asleep taking up most of the king size bed. A sudden second heart beat began to thud inside of me as I feared that something was wrong. The room dramatically became cold, my baby body shook furiously. I shifted as I saw she wasn't in her bed. So I fiercely shuffled downstairs in my red polka dot nighty and my animal print ugg slippers wishing that my baby was there. Then it all suddenly became clear when I saw the dreaded note labelled with Tiffany in pink ink, she used to do this when something was wrong. I emotionally ripped open the envelope and pulled out the neatly written note.

To Mum and Dad,
I'm sorry this is how I left. I can say from the bottom of my heart that it wasn't your fault and I wish I didn't have to do this. Don't be angry at me, but it's for the best.

I love you, Tiffany x x x

As I read it my eyes started flooding almost as much as when my mother died. I held the note next to my heart hoping that she was safe. I sprinted upstairs straight away to awake Jacob to tell him the bad news and read him a letter aloud. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his face was horrified and he rapidly rushed out of bed to grab his car keys and go to find his baby.

I had to go! My mother would never accept my mistake. I love my parents too much to ever tell them the real reason why I had to go. They would be thoroughly disgusted with me. I didn't know that one drunken night could end so badly. I was so frightened as I didn't really know what I was letting myself into. I had only ever been to London once when I was just a year old which isn't going to help much. The only thing I have to help me find my way was the map but I have never been great at geography; I struggled to pass my key stage 3 exams. My parents; they don't believe in pre-marital activities. I knew I would have to do this by myself as I didn't even know the father of my baby.

When Tiffany was a little girl, she was always shy which is why I cant understand why she has gone. She always showed affection towards me and Jacob. When she was born me and Jacob were both in our early fourties. We did fear before having her that we were too old but we thought we would be able to manage as both of us were perfectly healthy at the time.

THIS IS MY STORY AT THE MOMENT ITS FOR MY COURSEWORK WOULD ANYONE LIKE TO HELP ME IMPROVE IT OR GIVE ME SOME IDEAS HOW TO CONTINEUE IM A BIT STUCK THANK YOU X

i thnk its good as it is

2009-09-03 12:38:13 by Jessie

Chuck from Wigwam describes the benefits of Wigwam King Cotton socks, available at essentialapparel.com.

It was exactly 5:45 in the morning my eyes reacted to the deafening sirens coming from my ancient, rusted alarm clock that had seen better days. I reached over to take the batteries out of it because the on/off switch had refused to work as I threw it to the wooden floor in a temper some few years ago when it woke me up in the middle of the night. I had been saving up for a new one for the past eight years, ever since I was seven years old. The only income I had was 50p every Christmas from my neighbour as a gift for delivering her cards. My bags were already packed. I didn't have a lot as I knew excessive weight would be a pain to carry all the way. I crept through the house on my tip-toes. The only noise I made was the scuffing of my cotton socks on the red and purple flowered carpet. I placed a note that I had written to my parents on top of the grubby 80's microwave, with the other letters my mother had actually bothered to open. As I highlighted my name in pink fluorescent ink. I had butterflies swirling around in my stomach which made me question myself, “Am I doing the right thing?” My stomach was telling me to stay but my head was telling me to go. I knew that once I had stepped out of that door there was no turning back. I slid my faded yellow, torn crocs onto my feet as I opened the battered fridge door because I was feeling peckish having last eaten before I went to bed last night: a bag of grapes, a slab of mild cheddar cheese, a pack of 6 Mr Kipling lemon slices which I thought was enough for the two of us until I find a place to eat. As I forced the door shut; I heard the floor creaking from upstairs which startles me and made me jump out of my skin so I quickly sprang out of the kitchen door and landed in a muddy puddle, the result of a leaky gutter and last night's heavy rain. I took a last look at what used to be my home then threw the keys onto the cracked concrete slab abutting the door.

My eyelids soon jumped open as wide as they possibly could. I pulled myself out of bed like I did everyday as I dreaded that 9 hour shift that I had ahead of me. I slipped my feet into my slippers cringing as the velvet rubbed against my skin. Jacob, my husband was still fast asleep taking up most of the king size bed. A sudden second heart beat began to thud inside of me as I feared that something was wrong. The room dramatically became cold, my baby body shook furiously. I shifted as I saw she wasn't in her bed. So I fiercely shuffled downstairs in my red polka dot nighty and my animal print ugg slippers wishing that my baby was there. Then it all suddenly became clear when I saw the dreaded note labelled with Tiffany in pink ink, she used to do this when something was wrong. I emotionally ripped open the envelope and pulled out the neatly written note.

To Mum and Dad,
I'm sorry this is how I left. I can say from the bottom of my heart that it wasn't your fault and I wish I didn't have to do this. Don't be angry at me, but it's for the best.

I love you, Tiffany x x x

As I read it my eyes started flooding almost as much as when my mother died. I held the note next to my heart hoping that she was safe. I sprinted upstairs straight away to awake Jacob to tell him the bad news and read him a letter aloud. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his face was horrified and he rapidly rushed out of bed to grab his car keys and go to find his baby.

I had to go! My mother would never accept my mistake. I love my parents too much to ever tell them the real reason why I had to go. They would be thoroughly disgusted with me. I didn't know that one drunken night could end so badly. I was so frightened as I didn't really know what I was letting myself into. I had only ever been to London once when I was just a year old which isn't going to help much. The only thing I have to help me find my way was the map but I have never been great at geography; I struggled to pass my key stage 3 exams. My parents - they don't believe in pre-marital activities. I knew I would have to do this by myself as I didn't even know the father of my baby.

When Tiffany was a little girl, she was always shy which is why I cant understand why she has gone. She always showed affection towards me and Jacob. When she was born me and Jacob were both in our early fourties. We did fear before having her that we were too old but we thought we would be able to manage as both of us were perfectly healthy at the time.


could you help me improve my story its for my coursework its not finished yet

I think the beginning was actually pretty good. You need to watch for run on sentences and there are a lot of places where you need to place a comma. In the middle, I was a bit overwhelmed with your use of descriptive words. Maybe tone that down a bit. Also, I was totally confused with the transition from Tiffany to her mother and then back to Tiffany because they are both in the 1st person. I am not sure what your rules are, but I think this would be better if told from a 3rd person.
Good luck.

2009-09-05 05:46:18 by Jessie

Extra-cushiony foot.
Stay put leg and top.
Reverso toe closure.

It was exactly 5:45 in the morning my eyes reacted to the deafening sirens coming from my ancient, rusted alarm clock that had seen better days. I reached over to take the batteries out of it because the on/off switch had refused to work as I threw it to the wooden floor in a temper some few years ago when it woke me up in the middle of the night. I had been saving up for a new one for the past eight years, ever since I was seven years old. The only income I had was 50p every Christmas from my neighbour as a gift for delivering her cards. My bags were already packed. I didn't have a lot as I knew excessive weight would be a pain to carry all the way. I crept through the house on my tip-toes. The only noise I made was the scuffing of my cotton socks on the red and purple flowered carpet. I placed a note that I had written to my parents on top of the grubby 80's microwave, with the other letters my mother had actually bothered to open. As I highlighted my name in pink fluorescent ink. I had butterflies swirling around in my stomach which made me question myself, “Am I doing the right thing?” My stomach was telling me to stay but my head was telling me to go. I knew that once I had stepped out of that door there was no turning back. I slid my faded yellow, torn crocs onto my feet as I opened the battered fridge door because I was feeling peckish having last eaten before I went to bed last night: a bag of grapes, a slab of mild cheddar cheese, a pack of 6 Mr Kipling lemon slices which I thought was enough for the two of us until I find a place to eat. As I forced the door shut; I heard the floor creaking from upstairs which startles me and made me jump out of my skin so I quickly sprang out of the kitchen door and landed in a muddy puddle, the result of a leaky gutter and last night's heavy rain. I took a last look at what used to be my home then threw the keys onto the cracked concrete slab abutting the door.

My eyelids soon jumped open as wide as they possibly could. I pulled myself out of bed like I did everyday as I dreaded that 9 hour shift that I had ahead of me. I slipped my feet into my slippers cringing as the velvet rubbed against my skin. Jacob, my husband was still fast asleep taking up most of the king size bed. A sudden second heart beat began to thud inside of me as I feared that something was wrong. The room dramatically became cold, my baby body shook furiously. I shifted as I saw she wasn't in her bed. So I fiercely shuffled downstairs in my red polka dot nighty and my animal print ugg slippers wishing that my baby was there. Then it all suddenly became clear when I saw the dreaded note labelled with Tiffany in pink ink, she used to do this when something was wrong. I emotionally ripped open the envelope and pulled out the neatly written note.

To Mum and Dad,
I'm sorry this is how I left. I can say from the bottom of my heart that it wasn't your fault and I wish I didn't have to do this. Don't be angry at me, but it's for the best.

I love you, Tiffany x x x

As I read it my eyes started flooding almost as much as when my mother died. I held the note next to my heart hoping that she was safe. I sprinted upstairs straight away to awake Jacob to tell him the bad news and read him a letter aloud. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his face was horrified and he rapidly rushed out of bed to grab his car keys and go to find his baby.

I had to go! My mother would never accept my mistake. I love my parents too much to ever tell them the real reason why I had to go. They would be thoroughly disgusted with me. I didn't know that one drunken night could end so badly. I was so frightened as I didn't really know what I was letting myself into. I had only ever been to London once when I was just a year old which isn't going to help much. The only thing I have to help me find my way was the map but I have never been great at geography; I struggled to pass my key stage 3 exams. My parents - they don't believe in pre-marital activities. I knew I would have to do this by myself as I didn't even know the father of my baby.

When Tiffany was a little girl, she was always shy which is why I cant understand why she has gone. She always showed affection towards me and Jacob. When she was born me and Jacob were both in our early fourties. We did fear before having her that we were too old but we thought we would be able to manage as both of us were perfectly healthy at the time.

U've got a writers soul
x

2009-09-03 14:01:33 by Jessie

Price: $37.95 $27.95

Dimensions: Approximately 6.25 x 9.25 inches; 16 x 23 cm
Grade: Very Fine ++
Authentication: Dual Serial-Numbered Certificates of Authenticity w/ Full Provenance