This is my first novel, and the first few paragraphs. Is this a good beginning?
A shadow grew bigger as the sun descended to the horizon of the Earth. The lid to an old, rusty trash can now lost its shiny glow. The ice cream cone sitting atop of it started to melt, causing streams of white vanilla to flow down the side of the metal can. The birds chirpped in tones of agony, mixing with the depression felt here. A park adjacent to this interstate was rare.
Stephanie watched as this boy- dark hair, short, and skinny- accidentally dipped his elbow in the cone while he used both of his hands to apply pressure on his bleeding nose. His nose was bleeding horribly. His white shirt had blood plastered upon it in the shape of South America. His left eye was twitching, nearly closed. The other eye had salty tears slowly streaming down the side of his cheek. Dark, red blood oozed from his left nostril. It seemed like he had a bug in his eye, because Stephanie could see a swarm of gnats buzzing above his head. That would be quite some painful moments, Stephanie thought as she watched him lie down on a brown bench, looking utterly dismayed. Having a bloody nose and something irritating his eye. I can't imagine what that would feel like.
Stephanie, peering through the third row seat in the backseat of her car, tried to deflect a migraine. This migraine was hurting badly, and she didn't know why. She doesn't remember getting any stress or injury to her head at all. Her parents were driving her to a surprise trip. They must really want it to be a surprise, because they haven't spoken to her for hours. But it was really creepy to sit there, not knowing where you are going. For all she knew, some stranger could be sitting in the front, driving.
But that wasn't the case. For the little parts of their bodies she could see, they were wearing the same shirts they had on when they got in the car.
She was getting chilly, even in the middle of July. When she asked her parents to turn the air conditioner off, she didn't get a response. They just sat silently in the front row of the car, away from Stephanie's view. She now sat staring out the left window of the car streaming down the paved road that seemed to never end. This boy seemed to be the only living, moving thing in Stephanie's radius, and Stephanie payed all of her focus on this boy experiencing a double dilemma. She did not have anything else to do.
Stephanie winced, remembering her ninth birthday party, when a boy named Harold had a distusting pace of blood flowing down his body. She had accidentally whacked him with a baseball. He had a large, purple lump on his broken nose. Stephanie never forgot that horrible, scrunched up face when he had begun to wail. His tears were buckets of water, pouring down his beet red face. He had to go to the emergency room in the hospital and get stitches, which Stephanie heard hurt like someone was slowly peeling off all of your skin.
He never talked to Stephanie for a few weeks, not even to act out a play they had been assigned to perform together. That put on quite some scene, as the teacher had to call home. She could remember him protesting at the teacher, saying what a "crappy" person Stephanie was. She had run into the bathroom, crying. On the way there, she nearly killed the principal walking down the hall with her drunk and careless maneuver to the restroom. On the way back, her face red and tear streaken, she strode back to the room, muttering every single cuss she knew, and using them creatively with a sentence about Harold.
This boy Stephanie was looking at sure did not look happy. His face was depressed, almost suicidal. He looked like he was expriencing deep agony. She wished she could help him, but then realized she would get killed jumping through the windshield, and then falling to her death on the pavement. She looked at the boy again: he was laughing. He ripped the kleenex off of his nose, threw it on the ground, laughing hysterically. He was still bleeding, but there seemed not to be anything in his eye anymore. He must be one stupid kid. Yes, he fixed one problem, but isn't he smart enough to realize more than one negative thing can happen at once? What does he do when he gets kidnapped and held at gunpoint? If he realizes the Visa credit card company didn't really decline his credit card, would he cheer and laugh until the annoyed gang members blew his head off?
Stephanie peeled her face from the disturbing scene. The blood flew quickly back into her nose from the release of pressure. Her thoughts now turned toward her headache. Man, was this headache a big one! She tried to cool her head by pressing her chilly palms to her forehead, but this did no use. It flared on.
 |
HOME
· Paving driveway
· Resin bonding
· Paving companies in England, UK
· Driveway paving related articles and questions
|
