The room is wavering around me like a stone skimmed across water. Slowly stumbling across the air-conditioned room, I feel myself collapse on a couch made up of the softest red velvet you can imagine. It feels like somebody took a vacuum and sucked the life and emotion out of me. After about thirty seconds, I gradually sit up and gaze around the room. My eyes are stuck on the crystal chandelier that looks so of out of place here in District 11, where most of us are wondering half of the time if we are going to be having supper that evening. I try to relax a bit, but muscles felt as tight as a taut rope. Suddenly I realize that all I really remember is the rough security guard throwing me in here like a rag doll, leaving me sprawled across the floor. Soon after, there is a light knock on the door, making me jump, but I softly whisper, “Come in”. Whoever it was surprisingly heard me, opening the slightly creaky door.
My mother walks in with a grim face, trying to not make it so obvious that she is hiding her emotions with all of her strength. I stand up and stride over to her, pulling her into my arms for what may be our last embrace. She weeps on my shoulder, knowing that I only have a one in a chance of twenty four in this war; a war for amusement to see innocent children die. I let go of her and take her cool hand, pulling her over to the couch. Suddenly my mother seems so full of fear that I can even see it in her eyes. This scares me, knowing that if I die, she will be all alone in this vast world.
She slowly reaches towards her pocket, pulling out an anklet made up of hand-woven corn stalks. It seems to be made up of an impossible pattern, with such fine details that make your eyes think that it isn’t even real. My great-great grandmother made this beautiful item, and it has always been passed down throughout the family at a time that is felt to be right. I give my mother a soft kiss on the cheek, taking the bracelet and holding it tight in my hand. Just then, before I can even give my mother one last hug, the door slams open with a force to crush someone and three men walk in, and one grabs my mother’s arm to pull her away, and I feel her hand slipping out of mine. Her eyes give me a look of sorrow, love and desperation as she disappears out of view for what may be forever.
I now realize that we never even exchanged one word to each other. I whisper, “I love you”, as the other two guards pull me towards the door that will guide me to a world that I never wanted to know.
You did a wonderful job at grabbing the readers attention. The whole story was engaging and emotional. Next time try to use more similes and metaphors! but overall, wonderful job!
Wow, this was such a well written story. I absolutely love how you chose your mother to give you the token, because many of us can relate to the mother daughter relationship. I especially loved the simile in your opening sentence; “The room is wavering around me like a stone skimmed across water.” If I could ask you add one thing, it would be that you explain what the bracelet a bit more. Give some powerful descriptive words about it to really make the reader feel like they are actually seeing the bracelet. Over all, this was fabulous.
WOW! This was a FANSTASTIC writing piece. It had me hooked from the very beginning and leaves you really wanting to know what is going to happen next. That opening: “The room is wavering around me like a stone skimmed across water. Slowly stumbling across the air-conditioned room, I feel myself collapse on a couch made up of the softest red velvet you can imagine.” and that closing: “I whisper, “I love you”, as the other two guards pull me towards the door that will guide me to a world that I never wanted to know.” were just perfect ways of keeping the reader engaged. This piece also does a really good job of showing how important you an your mother are to each other and the emotions you are going through. A few things to improve your writing would be to add more adjectives to describe the room you are in (however the main focus was the token, so its not too important) and talking a bit more about the token. This feels like more of a description of the goodbyes, not your token, talk more about the importance it has to your family, describe the complicated pattern, and maybe a small little bit about how your grandmother made it. Despite all of this, you still did a great job of showing the writer what was going on and I can’t wait to see what you write about next.