The next class (finally!!!)

Kira walked into his classroom, glad to finally be back. He stopped inside the door and took a deep breath and allowed the smell of old text books and chalk fill his nose. Kira looked around the room and took in the familiar sights. He walked around the room touching each object, re-acquainting himself with the room. He soon found himself at his desk. This is my desk. He thought with a smile. He sat at his desk and waited for his students to return to class.

Sarah-Rose nervously made her way to the creative writing class, it was her first lesson of it and she was well aware she was already behind after starting late at the school. She soon approached the classroom door, she reached out a hand and lightly placed it on the door handle before gently turning it and pushing open the door. Sarah-Rose nervously entered and was slightly relieved to see it was only the teacher who had arrived so far.

"Matt" frowned as he made his way upstairs, looking intently at his schedule paper. His next class was Creative Writing, which was said to be in room 40. Hopefully he didn't read it wrong, and hopefully he will be able to see the classroom sign. It was upstairs, right?

It was really bothersome, being a visual handicap, but there was nothing he could do about it. Well, nothing until someone actually tried to help him. Well "Matt" guessed that he wouldn't care unless teachers gave him special attention. That just irked him; he already knows that he's a poor little being, so don't treat him like one, please.

As he dwelled in these thoughts, his half-blind eye trailed across a sign. He stopped, staring. 40? Was it 40? Definitely two digits, and the second one was indeed a zero.. Or it could be an eight... He stepped closer. Yeah, it was a zero. First digit? Well, it can't be anything else besides a four, right? Again, he looked at his schedule paper, then took a deep breath and opened the door. If this was indeed his classroom, then it will be for the rest of the year.

He slowly entered, looking around. Blurry, blurry, it was blurry. There was one person, probably the teacher, up at the front, and another person–a girl, probably, seeing her long, red hair–simply standing there. He knew that classes had gone before this, but he had entered the school late, since he had to take plenty of medical exams before he was fit to enter this school. He didn't know that the other student in the classroom was in a similar situation too. Well, for now, he just had to confirm something. It was a good thing there were so little people in the room.

"This.. This is the Creative Writing class, right?" he asked. Ah, it was so embarrassing, having to ask this, but he had no choice!

Kira noticed that two students had entered the room looking rather confused. Which is weird because most students at this school were full of confidence. "Go ahead and have a seat where ever you want!" Kira said to them. "There are no assigned seats in my class." Kira smiled a largely fake smile that looked slightly creepy. He was going to have to get used to actually showing emotion after his long absence.

Kira then heard the boy's question. Kira noticed that the boy wasn't quite seeing what was in front of him. Kira chuckled to himself and said, "Yes, this is Creative Writing. Are you new here?"

The breath had involuntarily been holding was slowly let out as the teacher admitted that he had indeed ended up in the right classroom.

"Yes, I am new here," he answered, saying nothing more. Just answer what the teachers ask. That's how he was taught.

I can't just help but to be uneasy though... he thought, heading to a seat. There were always seats classified one way or another. The back meant that you're a troublemaker, but they say it's the best seat since the teacher can't see you. If you're in the middle the teacher tends to stare at you a lot, but most of the time you're ignored. The front is for the teacher's pets.

He was absolutely not a teacher's pet, but "Matt" was required to sit at the front row due to his bad vision. Like it did anything, but it was probably much more better than sitting at the back, where he wouldn't be able to see a thing. To avoid attention, though, he decided to sit at the desk at the far right, next to the door. At least he'd be able to see people's faces.

The chair made a low scraping noise as he slowly pulled it back, taking a seat. They say that slow and steady wins the race; for him, it's just a requirement.

((OOC: I'm going to give it two more days before starting actual class. Cool with you guys? I haven't been on for a while so if you know something I don't, speak up!))

[OOC: Like I said, I'm new here, so I don't know anything! XD I'm totally fine with it.]

[OOC: Same as Karatsu you're lookin at a newbie here! I'll just go with whatever.]

Sarah-Rose made her way to a chair sort of middlish on the left, next to a window. Being able to look out into some sort of freedom always provided her with some sort of inspiration. She sat down and began to doodle while waiting for the teacher to start the class, unsure quite what to say to break the silence.

Shiroka looked at the door nervously and opened the doorknob slowly then decided to look around the class.
To notice the teacher at the front smiling slightly realising he was in the right class and looked to see a face next to the door... definitely male he thought and a girl at the back next to the window, deciding to make his way to a seat near the back and moved the chair to sit down.

Kira noticed another child enter the room as he took a seat in the back. Kira sighed as he heard the bell ring. Such a small class. But Kira didn't let that deter him from teaching a good class.

"Alright, before we get going I need to know what you know about writing already. So, for your first assignment, I want you to write a short story. Nothing fancy. It doesn't even need to be a whole page long. It just needs to be long enough to get the point across. Any questions?"

Kira looked around the room. Waiting, watching for hands to go up in the air.

starts thinking as he stops "wat to start off with" he puts his pen on the paper and starts writing.
he looks up "how do we show it"

Sarah-Rose grabbed her pen, an idea already forming in her mind and began to write down her idea.



No one could understand it. There was nothing wrong. No abuse. No bullying. Nothing that could have upset her. She was a happy, bubbly girl. Always found the silver lining. Nothing was ever too much trouble. Always had a shoulder free to cry on. Always had time for a friend.

And yet there she lay.

No one called her names. No one left a bruise on her skin. No one wanted her to ever go away. She was the girl that Disney had made movies about. The perfect, wonderful girl who got the prince. Had two blonde haired children and lived happily ever after

But she didn't get her happy ever after.

Her fairytale became twisted and decayed. She was a perfect daughter. A parent's blessing. An angel in disguise.

So why does she now lie on the floor? Lying behind a locked door? Lying on the broken glass of a destroyed reflection? A bloody knife, drying in the sun, held in her loose grip. Scars of the fatal secret she never told. Magazines of supermodels, stick thin, blemish free, airbrushed so they weren't anything like the original picture.

Her dreams and ambitions came crashing down as soon as she saw she gained a pound of weight. A pound closer to being too big to be a model.

Not all fairy-tales have happy endings.

She put down her pen and shook her wrist before re-reading over her work .

he finally got an idea of something and wrote it down now thinking of a title was difficult for him and he thought of the first thing that came to him

Sleeping in on a beautiful day

Snoring could be heard from the lounge as he walked into the lounge room walked quietly up to the guy snoring ‘this is god, I am very angry with you, you have been sleeping for a whole day, now get up’ Intwa shot up ‘uh what’ he looked innocent ‘oh nothing your snoring is loud to much’ responded akira sweetly and went to the kitchen.

‘What happened to the ship? Did it sink? Oh great’ moaned Ikato wandering what happened to the game he was playing as a figure loams behind him grinning ‘ha-ha one for me’ the figure said with the plug in his hand ‘shinra that’s not right’ ‘ah who cares cant I be with you for once’ shinra replied making Ikato gasp he’s drunk Ikato thought as shinra sat next to him.

A gurgling stomach could be heard in one of the rooms as it got louder a young woman woke up ‘what was that noise’ looking round as it comes again she looks at the person in the bed with her ‘idiot always hungry in the morning’ she whispers as she smiles at him before getting out of bed to get changed.

Putting on a silk top, jeans and a furry jacket and decided to go downstairs going past yakomara’s room opening it slightly to see him reading in bed as he looks up with a smile at her ‘good morning Rani’ he says and continues reading ‘morning Mara’ and goes out and down the stairs to the kitchen to have breakfast.

he smiled at something he did

"Matt" raised his eyebrows when the bell rang, leaning against the back of his chair with one elbow propped up against it. His vision wasn't so bad that he couldn't see that there were only three people in today's class. Well this is just sad... he thought to himself, hearing the teacher sigh, probably having similar thoughts.

He listened carefully to the prompt that the teacher–Kira, according to the schedule; he couldn't help but to wonder if he had a Death Note–then blinked a few times. That's it? Just a story? A short one?

... This is going to be hard... he thought, digging a fresh piece of lined paper and a pencil from his backpack and setting the paper down on his desk. He flattened it, thinking with a frown. Stories. They didn't come randomly to him. They needed thinking, brainstorming, and a good plot. He spends hours just thinking of what's going to happen next. He can't do a simple short story! Ah, but I have to.

Always do what the teacher says.

He closed both eyes, searching for an idea in the darkness. Ideas, ideas. "Matt" tried to think about the plots that he had read from various books and manga. Maybe they can give inspiration, if not a totally different idea.

Finally...

Lost

"Little boy, are you lost?"

He looked up. Two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth in a sea of wrinkles. A mop of curly white hair on top. Clear glasses over eyes filled with cataracts.

He didn't respond.

The old lady patiently waited for a response, simply waiting. The boy didn't respond, just unconsciously tightened his grip on the leather book he was carrying. Faintly, he told himself that this wasn't a good idea. This woman would turn into a wolf and try to eat him.

"... Who are you?" he finally asked. He probably sounded rude, but he didn't care.

The woman didn't answer either. How did she expect him to answer if she didn't do it as well?

Finally she smiled. "Come to my house, little child. We'll go see if you can make a call."

She didn't sound scary, but she didn't sound so kind either. He decided that if he was to go anywhere, he should follow her. A huntsman would save him.

She held out her hand and he just stuffed them into his pockets. The lady let out a small smile before walking up the cold hill. He followed behind, trying not to show that he was tired, that legs were trembling.

After forever and a day, up on the small hill was a smaller house. He entered it after the old lady, looking around as she led to to the kitchen. It smelled of apple and burnt wood. There were paintings up on the wall, looking as if they had been smeared with flimsy fingers. Yet he was still able to recognize them. Cinderella. Hansel and Gretel. The Gingerbread Man.

"You know, I have a granddaughter your age. She likes fairy tales too," the woman commented. He stared back at her.

She handed him a towel, a faintly damp one with curls of steam radiating off of it. "Little boy, there's dried blood on your head. Did you hit it on something before I found you?"

He didn't answer, just looked around. Finally, his eyes settled on something. A boy stared back at him. Round, brown eyes. Black hair in a mess. Dark, deep crimson stains on his cheek. It wasn't someone that he knew.

"... Who are you?

"Matt" looked at the blurry paper. His handwriting was so neat and narrow that he could barely see it. If his memory was correct (and it always was), then he tried his best and that was it.

How horrible, though. he thought. Did his story make sense at all?

Just put the point across... he told himself, resisting the urge to write more as he dropped his pencil. It made a clattering noise against the wooden desk. He rubbed his left wrist, his not-dominant hand rubbing it. He would much rather type than write on a paper, but hey, this had to be done.

No one could understand it. There was nothing wrong. No abuse. No bullying. Nothing that could have upset her. She was a happy, bubbly girl. Always found the silver lining. Nothing was ever too much trouble. Always had a shoulder free to cry on. Always had time for a friend.

In this first paragraph you should have used commas when listing what wasn't wrong. "There was nothing wrong; no abuse, no bullying, nothing that could have upset her."
Also, try to avoid words ending in 'ly'. These are adverbs and stronger words can be used in their place. Perhaps; "She was a happy, outgoing girl".

And yet there she lay.

No one called her names. No one left a bruise on her skin. No one wanted her to ever go away. She was the girl that Disney had made movies about. The perfect, wonderful girl who got the prince. Had two blonde haired children and lived happily ever after.

Try to avoid making references to things you didn't make.
Here you spelled blond wrong. If you don't know how to spell a word it helps to look it up, either in a dictionary or using Google.

But she didn't get her happy ever after.

Her fairytale became twisted and decayed. She was a perfect daughter. A parent's blessing. An angel in disguise.

So why does she now lie on the floor? Lying behind a locked door? Lying on the broken glass of a destroyed reflection? A bloody knife, drying in the sun, held in her loose grip. Scars of the fatal secret she never told. Magazines of supermodels, stick thin, blemish free, airbrushed so they weren't anything like the original picture.

Here a semi colon would be more appropriate.

Her dreams and ambitions came crashing down as soon as she saw she gained a pound of weight. A pound closer to being too big to be a model.

Not all fairy-tales have happy endings.

A very compelling story. I applaud you. Kira clapped his hands with a wide grin on his face. He handed her paper back.

--------------------------------------------




Snoring could be heard from the lounge as he walked into the lounge room walked quietly up to the guy snoring ‘this is god, I am very angry with you, you have been sleeping for a whole day, now get up’ Intwa shot up ‘uh what’ he looked innocent ‘oh nothing your snoring is loud to much’ responded akira sweetly and went to the kitchen.

"This is God The 't' in this should be capitalized along with the 'g' in God. God is a proper noun, a name, which is why God is capitalized. Also, when a person is speaking you should make it its own paragraph. Finally, when someone is speaking you are supposed to use quotes ("") rather than apostrophes ('').

Where you have commas in this first paragraph, where God is speaking, you should have periods. They are full sentences on their own.

In the next red section perhaps you could rephrase it so that it flows better. For example, you could try: much too loud." And Akira should be capitalized.

‘What happened to the ship? Did it sink? Oh great’ moaned Ikato wandering what happened to the game he was playing as a figure loams behind him grinning ‘ha-ha one for me’ the figure said with the plug in his hand ‘shinra that’s not right’ ‘ah who cares cant I be with you for once’ shinra replied making Ikato gasp he’s drunk Ikato thought as shinra sat next to him.

A gurgling stomach could be heard in one of the rooms as it got louder a young woman woke up ‘what was that noise’ looking round as it comes again she looks at the person in the bed with her ‘idiot always hungry in the morning’ she whispers as she smiles at him before getting out of bed to get changed.

Putting on a silk top, jeans and a furry jacket and decided to go downstairs going past yakomara’s room opening it slightly to see him reading in bed as he looks up with a smile at her ‘good morning Rani’ he says and continues reading ‘morning Mara’ and goes out and down the stairs to the kitchen to have breakfast.

Otherwise a decent story. Kira smiled as he handed his paper back.

-------------------------------



Unless it's a published work, you don't underline the title. Since nothing we do in this room will be published works you won't underline the title.

"Little boy, are you lost?"

He looked up. Two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth in a sea of wrinkles. A mop of curly white hair on top. Clear glasses over eyes filled with cataracts.

He didn't respond.

The old lady patiently waited for a response, simply waiting. The boy didn't respond, just unconsciously tightened his grip on the leather book he was carrying. Faintly, he told himself that this wasn't a good idea. This woman would turn into a wolf and try to eat him.

Avoid the use of adverbs. (Words that end in 'ly')

"... Who are you?" he [color=red]finally asked. He probably sounded rude, but he didn't care.

The woman didn't answer either. How did she expect him to answer if she didn't do it as well?

Finally she smiled. "Come to my house, little child. We'll go see if you can make a call."

She didn't sound scary, but she didn't sound so kind either. He decided that if he was to go anywhere, he should follow her. A huntsman would save him.

She held out her hand and he just stuffed them into his pockets. The lady let out a small smile before walking up the cold hill. He followed behind, trying not to show that he was tired, that legs were trembling.

After forever and a day, up on the small hill was a smaller house. He entered it after the old lady, looking around as she led to to the kitchen. It smelled of apple and burnt wood. There were paintings up on the wall, looking as if they had been smeared with flimsy fingers. Yet he was still able to recognize them. Cinderella. Hansel and Gretel. The Gingerbread Man.

"You know, I have a granddaughter your age. She likes fairy tales too," the woman commented. He stared back at her.

She handed him a towel, a faintly damp one with curls of steam radiating off of it. "Little boy, there's dried blood on your head. Did you hit it on something before I found you?"

He didn't answer, just looked around. Finally, his eyes settled on something. A boy stared back at him. Round, brown eyes. Black hair in a mess. Dark, deep crimson stains on his cheek. It wasn't someone that he knew.

"... Who are you?

Very nice. Just avoid adverbs and I imagine you could make a career out of this. Kira smiled at the boy who appeared to have a hard time seeing.

Now you will notice that I have kept one of your papers. This is because I would like to publish it in the school paper. That is, if you don't mind.

(dont think so)
shiroka smiled and figured he needed to get better but he was happy about it.

[[OOC: Avoid.. adverbs? Adverbs are wonderful! OAO;;; ]]

"Matt" felt the ends of his lips involuntarily twitch upwards when the teacher said that he might be able to make a career out of writing. That didn't sound bad at all, though he would need an advanced editor to help him if he became a writer. Making a manga doesn't sound bad too, though. he thought. If I improve my drawing skills, then maybe I can... Then again, manga artists live like a gorilla.

He was dwelling in his thoughts, so he didn't notice he didn't get his paper back–or that the other students did get their assignments back–until the teacher announced that one paper was planned to be published in the school paper. "Matt" blinked twice before realization dawned on him. Oh, he was talking about his ("Matt's") paper.

A jumble of emotions crashed over him; he felt flattered, confused, a bit happy, bewildered, and downright hesitant. All for this little piece of paper. Should he? Should he not? Do the students even read the school newspaper here? What would it do?

"Um... I don't mind..." he answered after a long pause, setting his gaze on the blurry figure of the teacher. He tried to say something more, but the words got caught in his throat, and he just let out a small, "Thank you." before looking away.

Ah, embarrassment.

Sarah-Rose nodded. 'Darn English!' She muttered under her breath. Although Americans spoke English their sentence structure, use of adverbs, and punctuation were extremely different. In England she'd been encouraged to use short sentences to create tension and to use adverbs to make the piece more descriptive. This class was going to be harder than she thought.

"Well, that's it for this class." Kira said, "You all need to work on your sentence structure, avoid incomplete sentences, and work on grammar a little bit. Otherwise, your homework is to write another story, exhibiting these changes. Have a nice day!" Kira said this and the bell rang directly afterward. It was as if he had orchestrated the whole class.

Kira sat down at his desk and pulled out a laptop and began typing on it.