Is my story any good so far?

I have to write an short story for english, with a maximum of pages. So far, I’ve written a page and a half. What do you think? What did you like about it? What can I improve? Corrective criticism please!

I groan and stretch out my arms under the cool, crisp sheets. I feel a tugging on my arm, and grumble. I have a terrible headache, but I get those a lot after rehearsal. My friends and I always joke that if Mrs. Miller were to have a shouting match with a howler monkey, she would win. My eyes open slowly, and I’m in a snowy white room. I sit up quickly and grip the side of the bed, my knuckles turning white. I glance down, and see a jumble of tubes and wires sticking into my arms. My eyes dart around, taking in every aspect of the room. There is an array of flowers, balloons, and stuffed animals at one side of the room, and a jumble of machines on the other. The machines, are making pinging noises, and they start to beep faster and louder. A sharp, pungent, chemical smell makes my nose sting, and I my heart feels as though it is sinking into my stomach. I throw off the sheets, and try to swing my leg over the edge of the bed. Nothing. I stare down at my legs and try again. Nada. I poke my leg with my index finger, and feel warm flesh, but my leg feels nothing at all. Just then, a man in a white coat rushes into the room. He has o’clock shadow, and a coffee stain down the front of his shirt, which is only half tucked into his khaki pants. The poor man looks like hell, and the dark under-eye circles peaking out from behind his insect-like glasses tell me that he’s been awake for far too long. The man opens his mouth to speak, but before any sound comes out, a frazzled woman bursts into the room. Her banana colored bangs are plastered to her forehead, and the rest of her hair is sticking in all different directions. She still has on her apron from working at the salon, and her pink tennis-shoes squeak on the tile floor.

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“Mom…” I croak. This doesn’t sound like my voice. It sounds too sick and worn down. I wet my lips and cough.

“Oh, Honey, shhh, it’s okay,” she says brushing my bangs to the side, “Dr. Clemons is taking great care of you. You’re going to be just fine.” I don’t like the way she is looking at me. Her face is nearly dripping with concern and pity. This can’t be my mother. She’s too… kind.

“Miss Branson. I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Dr. Clemons says solemnly,”because of your accident-”

“What accident?” I think hard, trying to remember where I was the night before. “I think I remember driving down the highway, but I can’t remember anything else!”

“Miss Branson, last night, you were were in a car accident. A driver swerved into your SUV on a busy intersection. Your car tipped over and rolled off the side of the road.”

I gulped, “Is Nicole okay?”

“Miss Gilmore is fine, just a few broken toes, and a hairline fracture in her left arm.”

“She doesn’t sound fine,” I mumble, “how is she supposed to dance in the show next month if she has broken toes? It will take her awhile to get back en pointe!”

Dr. Clemons looks at me grimly, “About the show… Miss Branson, I’m afraid when the car rolled on its side, the violent pressure caused your spine to compress.”

“What does that mean?” I gulp. I know perfectly well what it means.

“Miss Branson, I’m afraid that you are a paraplegic from the waist down.” I stop listening after that, as he hits me with meaningless medical terms. I can’t move my legs. I can’t dance. The world starts to spin and a wave of nausea hits me. I feel the back of my head hit the soft hospital pillows. My mouth dries, and I feel a lump in my throat the size of a golfball. My mother grabs my hand and starts to bawl, but her cries sound like they are moving farther and farther away. My eyes shut slowly, and the world slips away.

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✅ Answers

🥇 Favorite Answer

  • Too many sentences start with “I”.

    The mother is awfully calm about this.

    Start with the car crash. Having them talking about rehearsals or the recital so the reader will know what’s going on. Waking up in the hospital is cliche.

    Good points: At least we know what’s happening and it’s not an info dump or endless scenery. descriptions.

  • There are many editorial errors, but wow! I am really liking this so far; in fact i got chills at the end!

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