Is this a good story so far? Please answer!?

Question

Sometimes I think the whole world has gone crazy, but then again maybe it's just me. Everyone wishes for the perfect life. Some people got it, I wasn't one of those people. I was sitting on a plane as it soared over the glistening water of the vast Atlantic. London, England was where I was headed. To live with my dad whom I had visited every summer since I was four years old. I'd been to London every summer for thirteen years, . I love London, I truly do, but it just wasn't MY place. I didn't feel like I would ever get my perfect life, or my happily ever after there. The busy streets, the brain-racketting noises, they're great. Except you get used to them, maybe even to used too them. I really didn't know what to expect in London though I had been there for a month, every year, for thirteen years. Even though it seemed like I had it all worked out in my mind, London was so different from Phoenix.

I knew from the day that I had made my decision to move from my favorite place in the world, that I would miss a lot in Phoenix. I had bid my farewell to the sun, my friends, and most of my wardrobe. In London, there are seasons. There are seasons in Phoenix too, except the weather doesn't take a different direction when they changed. In England the weather would be cold in winter. More than cold, some days would be below freezing. Thirteen years of hot, sunny days three-hundred and sixty days of the year. Just gone. Of course there would be summer.....once a year.

Suddenly, all the lights flickered off. I looked out the window. I couldn't see a thing, the sky was jet-black. Apparently it was nighttime. As I looked out the window and into darkness, I realized I was tired. I retrieved the blanket from the seat pouch in front of me and threw it over myself. I lay back in my seat and I surrendered to my lids.

I don't know when I finally fell asleep, but when I awoke the lights were back on. A flight attendant was coming around with breakfast. I pushed up my window shutter and looked out. There was a huge glare of light and it burnt my eyes. I quickly slammed the shutter back down.

A movie was playing on the big screen a few seats ahead, I didn't bother to plug any headphones in though. I just watched the characters dance across the screen. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a romance film or action film. I just guessed both, because before there were two people lip locked and now people were getting killed. Since I couldn't follow the movie without headphones and I didn't really feel like getting some out, I just stopped trying to watch. I just let my head rest against the seat. I had nothing to do. My Ipod was out of battery, I'd finished my book, my notebook was in one of my suitcases, and I didn't have any homework beings I was moving.

I just sat in my seat for I don't know how long. I probably fell asleep. If I had, I was awoken by the little ding right before the captains voice boomed out over the plane. "We are now arriving in London Heathrow. We hope you enjoyed being aboard, here on British Airways and we hope to have you back soon. The seat belt sign is still off and we ask that you do not unbuckle your seat belt until the plane has come to a complete stop." We were rolling along the runway, getting slower and slower. When the plane came to a halt I heard the sounds of everyone taking off their seat belts. I quickly unbuckled mine and stood up. I felt under the seat for my duffel and then pulled it up and slung it over my shoulder.

After finding my suitcases from the baggaige claim and getting back through security, I arrived in the room where I would meet my dad. Thousands of unfamiliar faces stood behind the rope, some holding signs, a lot were waving and the others were just waiting patiently.

I scanned the people for my father. He was all the way to the left leaning against the wall with his nose in a book. As I sauntered over to him I started to fret. I hadn't lived with him for thirteen years and now here I was, standing in the airport of Heathrow, England awaiting living with my father for what could be years. I noticed I was biting off the rest of my nails. I took them out of my mouth to examine them. They were short and stubby. Nail polish had chipped off of them and there was almost no white left on the top. This was a habit that needed to be broken. I put both my hands to my sides and approached my father. My father was a business man. He had thick curly hair and was your average 6'2". He is forty-nine years old, but he looked much younger. I on the other hand also had thick hair. Except mine is a shocking red, my father's is a blondish color. I get the red from my mothers side. My hair is long and straight. My hair is one thing I liked about myself. I was 5'8".

I am now taller than my mom, but not quite taller than my dad. I still had to shoot up seven inches if I wanted to beat him. I don't think that's ever going to happen though.

"Dad." I said hesitantly. He glanced upward and looked around as if he were trying to remember where he was. Then his eyes fell on me.

"It's great to see you Becca." he said. He put his arm around me, and we started walking down to the car. He has a navy blue converitble mustang. Like I said, he's a business man. The engine barely made a noise. Before I knew it we were out onto the highway. "I'm sorry about your mother." It had been three years since my mother's passing. I would have come to London three years ago, but I had begged to stay in Phoenix.

"It was three years ago dad." I didn't think he could be this desparate. Now I was worried about the hour long car ride back to the house.

"Oh, Right" he said. I could tell that this was even more cumbersome for him than me.

"Why didn't you come down here when she you know...died?"

I shrugged. "I just wasn't ready, that's all."

"Oh." was all he said. Then he tried to steer the conversation elsewhere. "So you got your license last year. That's pretty cool, I would say." We both knew this conversation wasn't really going anywhere, but he kept on trying anyways.

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Aunt Julie let me use her car. I've been saving up to buy one here." If he wanted a conversation, then I would try my hardest to give him one.

"I saw one I think you would like. It's from an old friend of mine. He owns a car company now, and since I helped him out with a couple of things...I got a little reward in return." I tried to smile as if to cheer him on.

"Oh cool. What kind of car?" I asked trying to sound excited.

"Well, it's a vokswagon. A convertible. And it's a nice shade of blue, like aqua." It sounded great to me, except I don't know if I had saved up enough to buy it.

"How much?" I questioned.

"Well, remember how I said I got a little reward? I kind of alrealy bought it for you, as a gift to welcome you." My jaw dropped. Free.

"Thanks Dad!" I exclaimed. I was speechless.

This is all I have so far. Could u rate it from a 1-10...and tell me what I could change and that stuff. and let me know if its really good or really sucky.

Answer 1

Very good! and now I want to know what happens in your story. Looks like youve got the makings of a writer. you should develop writing in your school studies. good luck bettyk

Answer 2

There's just a couple of things you should watch out for. I know it's fiction, but you should always do a little bit of research. For instance, and I may be wrong as it's been a long time since I've been to England, you can only fly to England from Scotland. That's the way it used to be. I can't be sure if that is the case now. But, would you look into it to make sure? Thanks. Also, in your sentence, "Except you get used to them, maybe even to used too them." I'm sure it was just a typo or something but it should be: "Except you get used to them, maybe even too used to them." Good, though, it has great potentional. Don't get upset if as you're writing you tear it all apart and write some more. . . .Good luck, Megan

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PS - Not that it's a bad thing, but the beginning of your story rather reminds me of Stephanie Meyer's "Twilight." Except, in her story, the girl was moving from Phoenix to Forks. Just thought I'd through it in there.

Answer 3

Very nice but your first sentence needs to be a good hook, not a clichéd phrase.

And frankly, I don't understand why so many people post chapters here at Yahoo! Answers. I feel it's inadvisable - you'll get very little constructive criticism (if that's what you're seeking. If you're only seeking unstructured praise, then you'll probably get enough of that.) I'd suggest joining a writers' critique group, either regionally where you live or online. You'll be more likely to receive far more constructive reviews of your writing.