Intro:
I rewrote my previous blog post with more visiual detail. The reading, My Mother Gives me a Writing Lesson (Martin Lee), clearly says that a good setting sets up the characters. So I added a "nut paragraph" in the beginning. I as well added a few changes in syntax for better sentence flow, as well as a few grammar mistakes. The season of summer ‘14 was ending; the sturdy trees were letting go of their warm-colored leaves. The sun was not quite setting, but was overlapping the roofs of the neighborhood houses. I was outside on my abroad front yard, playing with my pet cat, Luna. She was a pure white cat, with vivid, green eyes. She was skinny and nimble, darting from one side of the yard to the other. I was so careless, while I was playing with her, I stumbled over a divot on the ground. I fell hard on my side. I thought I was okay, so I got up. It turned out I wasn’t. My left ankle was broken, or at least sprained, and it hurt badly. I fell down again. I wanted to yell, but I didn’t want to cause a scene in my quiet neighborhood; I prayed that no passerby was looking my way. I probably looked like a fool. My cat, Luna, hurriedly ran towards me. She looked worried. She seemed like she wanted to help me, but she couldn’t do much. I used my arms to slowly crawl to my front door. It was a good thing wasn’t too far from my house; it was about fifteen feet away. I shamefully continued to stretch my arms and used my right foot as extra force. It seemed like a long time, but I made it to the front porch. Luna was still by my side, silent but caring. I forced myself to reach up to the door handle. While I was opening the screen door, I my pushed my body upwards onto the hardwood floor. Luna eventually decided to scamper back into the yard. My 9 year old sister was watching a cartoon on Netflix. “Flo, help me. I broke my ankle.” I groaned. “How'd you break it?!” she exclaimed “Just help me get on the chair. I’ll explain later.” My sister abruptly paused her show and slowly helped me onto the fabric armchair. She then continued to play the cartoon show. “Flo, go to the freezer and get me two ice-pops. One for my ankle and to eat.” She giggled a bit but followed my orders. She ran to the kitchen. A few seconds later, she came with three different colored pops, one for herself. She tossed them over the chair and onto my lap. I put one between my ankles and ripped the other one open with my mouth. Several minutes later, my father came from downstairs. He probably just woke up from a nap. He passed us, and paced towards the kitchen. “Troy, wash the dishes now!” he shouted from the kitchen. “I can’t!” I replied. “What do you mean?” “I broke my ankle.” I mutter. “What?” “I said I broke my ankle!” I shouted. I heard heavy steps creaking on the old wood floor coming back from the kitchen. “So, you gonna do the dishes or not?” I was so confused. Did he not hear me or not? “Do you think I’m lying? I broke my ankle.” “How?” he questioned. “I was, like... running outside and I misstepped into a hole and like... fell down.” “I don’t believe you. You’re always so lazy. Wash the dishes now!” My sister pauses the show. She silently watches. “Why wont you believe me? You see this thing on my ankle? I actually broke it or something!” “Get up right now.” I was completely silent for a few seconds.
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Troy BergadoWhatever's on my mind, from feelings to discoveries, I will write down here. ArchivesCategories |