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Ch 1: Rich Teen Poor Attitude


The sunlight illuminated through a partial opening of the velvet drapes, which faintly lit the dark bedroom. The stillness was shattered by the loud buzz of an alarm clock quickly silenced by the pound of a fist. A bed creaked, as a slim formed rose from the mound of blankets. This form, this young man, with dark caramel hair, and brown eyes was Damien Risquette. Better known as the infamous 14 year old heir to the Risquette Stock Marketing and Real Estate empire. Sluggishly Damien walked to the drapes, shivering as his bare feet touched the wood floors. Spreading open the drapes, the sunlight lit the entirety of the big bedroom. Which was clean and spotless thanks to Selena Rogue, the housemaid. Looking out the window, he took in the view of Central Park, just across the street. Yawning, he then went to the bathroom to washed up then headed to the doors opposite his bathroom which led to his walk-in closet. Automatic lights lit the closet, as Damien walked inside. Grumbling, and muttering profanity, Damien stepped over two Armani leather coats that he had threw on the floor the night before so carelessly. In the back of the closet was a drawer he opened which kept his school uniforms. He attends The Wimble Preparatory Academy. Loosening his tie, he finished the navy blue and white school uniform. Exiting the closet, and then the room he was but not even partially ready for events about to unfold. For he was to preoccupied with his angered outlook on the little things that most pay no attention to. In other words, it was another day in the life of Damien Christco Risquette. Descending to the 1st floor Damien plotted a way to convince his parents he was “sick“ and that going to school would be a bad decision. Every weekday morning, either his mother Kate, or father Joseph had to quite literally force him to school or suffer consequences to which they as parents never carried out. Today neither were home as the house was empty, much to the glee of Damien. Selena must have taken the day off Damien thought to himself as he checked the foyer, the kitchen and the family room just to be sure he was alone. With the house occupied only by himself, he basked in the event there would be no arguments or protests between his parents and himself. With his mind made up that he was not going to school, he plopped down on one of the over stuffed leather chairs in the living room, preparing to waste the day away. Flipping through the channels, Damien drifted in and out of sleep. Refusing to climb back up the 3 floors to his room, he dozed off on the chair. “Child, you better wake up.” Damien sprang awake catching his balance before he fell out of the chair. He turned behind him and saw Selena, standing in the foyer, shaking her head in utter disappointment. “You better get up and get to school”, she said sternly, Trying to create a believable lie Damien stuttered, “I-I already went to school but felt sick and got released early. Surely the school must have called to tell I would be home early.” “Yeah, the school did call, but the call was about you not even going this morning” Selena said, almost proud of herself for catching Damien in his twist of lies.


Putting down her purse on the table by the front door, she walked past Damien into the kitchen where the phone was. “Today is March 17 2009,” the machines female voice stated. “You have 1 message. ‘Hello this is Patricia from the Academy, Damien once again is absent from school. This is the 12th time he’s been absent in a row. Please note that the next time this happens, the school will have to bring it up to the attention of the Board of Education of New York.’” The answering machine beeped, then turned off. Selena turned back around to face Damien who had the look of a caught fugitive. “Hmm” was she said. Simple as can be. Walking into the kitchen, to put away the dishes Selena said to Damien “your mother called on my way here. She’s returning from her business meeting in Chicago. If you go to school now, I won’t tell her you tried to pull a fast one.” Unlike his parents whom were lenient, Selena who was much like a third parent, never backed down when she made up her mind. Damien didn’t get to make the decisions when she was around. His parents were perfectly fine with it to. They were glad to have someone teaching Damien some discipline. Damien still sitting in the chair whispered under his breath. Selena turned around to face him, holding a plate in her hand and asked “did you have something to say? I hear you whispering, if you‘re going to talk speak up.” Realizing he needed to shut his mouth before that dish in Selena’s hand ended up flying in his direction, Damien quickly replied “I was just talking to myself.” “Yeah, that’s what you better have been doing” Selena warned, turning back around to the dishwasher. Damien got off the chair, walked to the closet behind him, and grabbed his backpack, and a pair of dress shoes, mandatory by the Academy to wear. “You better grab a coat. It was freezing when I was outside” Selena warned, finishing up with the dishes. “The weather looks fine, I can see outside the window” Damien smugly replied back, rolling his eyes. “You roll your eyes at me again, I’ll pick them out” Selena threatened, startling Damien who thought she had her back faced to him. “If you don’t want a coat, fine. But don’t come whining home, complaining to your parents when you get a cold” she fired back, throwing the cleaning wipe in the trash bin under the sink. “I’ll be glad if I get sick” Damien coyly replied. Selena shook her head, as she left the kitchen, to go upstairs to do laundry. Stopping in the kitchen doorway, she turned to Damien, sighed then said “you have such a hard head you know. Just for once, I wish you would just listen when someone say something to you.” Wanting to get the conversation over with, Damien grabbed a coat from the closet, almost ripping it as he yanked it off the hanger. Not getting a reply from Damien, Selena walked to the closet, to pick up two other coats that fell off their hangers, when Damien pulled his down. Sitting on the couch to put on his shoes, and stuff his jacket into his backpack, which was filled with crumbled papers and such, he said “I bet you will feel guilty one day if I run away because of how you treat me. It‘s like I‘m in military school” Selena who was headed to the staircase stopped and turned to Damien. Smiling she replied “boy, I’ll be joyous if you ran off, that’ll mean less clean up for me to do ‘round here. Also, I’m not harsh with you, I’m just trying to teach you some discipline so you grow up to be a behaved, well-mannered young man. But I can‘t make you become that person. There ain’t nobody can help or save you but yourself, I want you to remember that.” Damien pondered that thought as he stood up and walked to the front door. Selena added, “I’ll call your driver, he’ll be outside in 15 minutes or so. Now go to school and have a good day.” Opening the door, he replied “there is no good day if it’s a school day for me.” “Keep your mouth shut, you will have a good day” Selena replied. Damien pondered that thought also. Filing it away in his short-term memory he said “I’ll try that, bye.” Selena replied bye back then went upstairs to finish her work. Damien stood in the foyer still thinking about ditching school. But he knew he had to go. Someway, somehow Selena would find out. “I have eyes for the eye in the back of my head” he remembers her saying when he was a little kid, when he would try and sneak out of timeout. Reluctantly he opened the front door and slowly stepped outside. Whether Damien was ready or not, he was going to face much more than a day of school. He is going to face the real world. Where money cannot buy acceptance, and acceptance is gained from the amount of respect and dignity you hold for yourself and others.


Two characteristics that are quite risqué for the Risquette’s.


Ch 2: Hit and Pay


Stepping out of the family’s four story home in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, Damien shivered as he realized how stupid he was and should have just taken Selena‘s word. He opened his backpack and grabbed his coat to put on. Taking a seat on one of the step outside the house, he leaned against his backpack. Looking at his clock, it read eleven o’clock. School finished at 3PM. Damien was glad that he would miss a lot of school, but sullen because he would be there for some time of school. Loudly, just for attention he swore “damn it.” A twenty-something looking woman, jogging past the Risquette’s residence stopped and stared at Damien. Shaking her head, she said within his earshot “I swear these kid’s these days, no self respect whatever. They probably think they can buy it with their daddy‘s credit card.” Loudly, Damien said “Bitc-” She stopped again, and turned around to Damien. Ready to return his remark, she regained composure, deciding to be the mature one and turned back around to continue jogging. Damien smiled cunningly. Though he would have enjoyed a verbal argument between him and the woman. A few minutes later, the limo pulled up along the curb. Hopping off the step, and grabbing his backpack Damien opened the gates and walked to the limo. He looked in the direction the lady had walked in to find her nowhere in sight. Bitter, because he realized school was eminent, Damien threw his backpack and then coat into the car. Then getting in himself, he leaned back in the seat, not feeling like putting on his seatbelt. Nicolas Gomitz, the family’s driver since Damien was born, turned around in the driver’s seat to Damien and said cheerfully “Good morning Mr. Risquette. I hear you tried to pull a fast one today. Trying to ditch school. I remember when I-” Sourly Damien groaned. His signal that he didn’t feel like hearing Nick. Nick got the message loud and clear. “Well, are you going to go or not” Damien snarled. “Wimblen Academy it is then” Nick sighed, hitting the gas pedal. The limo pulled away from the curb, in destination to Brooklyn where the Academy is. Even though he lived in Manhattan all his life, Damien still found himself staring up at the towering skyscrapers that laid throughout the city. He stared out the window as the limo drove through the city. With traffic moving semi-smoothly, the limo made swift pace toward the Manhattan Bridge. Which would lead directly to the Academy located on Fulton street. Impatient at the slow of traffic as the limo pulled into Little Italy, Nick took a swift right turn at the next light. A man, chatting away on his cell bolted across the street as the limo turned. Seeing the man, Nick slammed on the brakes throwing Damien who still wasn’t wearing a seatbelt onto the floor. The man snapped his cell shut and kicked front bumper of the limo. Nick immediately. Damien to stepped out, hearing the commotion as he got back up. “What the hell is going on here” Damien yelled. The man who almost got hit and Nick, ignored Damien and continued their screaming match. The man threatened to sue, to which got Nick swearing up a storm. By now a small crowd of people had gathered around. Damien sighed and got back in the limo, slamming the door shut. Thirty minutes later, and the dashboard clock in the limo reading 1PM the dispute was finalized with the Mr. Stewarts, the Risquette family attorney, rushing down to the incident, and going through a bunch of legal stuff of how the man was at fault for jaywalking, and was not even injured. Shaken up a little, but not injured. The man after thinking awhile agreed. Nick apologized and that was that. However, Mr. Stewart handed the man $100. Some people watching the incident, gave looks of disapproval. Especially when the man greedily took the money and walked off, pulling his cell phone out. The Risquette’s, were notorious for trying to buy their way out trouble. Money shuts people up. The family knew that, and took full advantage of it. The limo pulled up a gravel road, leading to the Academy, which lurked ominously ahead. The limo pulled in front of the school and Damien sighed, slowly opening the door. Damien really had no reasonable reason for not wanting to go to school. He wasn’t bullied, nor had anyone to fear. He was the one who was feared. A sophomore, he threatened students of any class rank. The upper grades, the junior’s and senior’s stayed clear of his way. The Risquette’s were not the people you want as an enemy. With a reputation as manipulative, Damien used his family’s power to push his backwards of the alphabet report card to a more appealing report card comprised of A’s and B’s. Grumbling again, he opened the car door and stepped out. Grabbing his backpack and blackberry, Damien leaned back out of the car. About to shut the door, he stopped when Nick said “wait, I might be little-” Damien slammed the door shut, cutting off what Nick. To the limo as it pulled from the curb he said “you better have been going to say you may be a little early.” Entering the school, Damien found the halls empty. Above the doors was a clock which read 2PM. Thinking it complete stupidity that he still had to go to school, with just one class left. He opened the school doors, about to walk out, and stopped hearing footsteps behind him. It was Mr. Grant, the Vice Principle. Sarcastically Mr. Grant said “where do you think your going? Leaving so soon after making an appearance.” Damien stared at Mr. Grant. Trying hard to project all the hate he felt into his icy stare. “Yup, that’s what I’m doing” Damien said, now looking at the lockers. “I’d appreciate you showing some respect” Mr. Grant said, irritated. “Sure, please, thank you” replied Damien. Trying hard to piss of Mr. Grant. Mr. Grant ignored Damien‘s childish remark and told him to either go to class, or receive a detention for “disrespect“. Now wanting to another “respect your self” speech from his dad, Damien chose class. With 30 minutes left, he proceeded to his 7th period class. English with Ms. Jacar. Damien had one been one of Ms. Jacar’s top students. That was five years ago when Damien was a ‘rich kid‘. Now, he’s a ‘rich, disrespectful, and spoiled teen.’Much difference one can see, Previous teachers used to say how smart he is, and how when he puts his whole heart and mind into his schoolwork he is magnificent. Comments now from his teachers border around his not attending school and disrespectful behavior. Those issues are brought to his always late parents who inform the teachers that it is “simple adolescent behavior.” Damien didn’t start his workmanship to not attend school until he entered High School. His grades suffered, and his parents remained clueless. Damien had all the symptoms to become ‘a set for life.’ So long as the money remained, and the Risquette’s kept their oversized egos. Walking into class, Damien grimaced at the familiar atmosphere of working brains, and addiction to learn.


Some of the students looked up from the book they were reading. Clearly they were surprised Damien was at school. Almost as surprised as Damien was with himself for going through with the whole thing.


Ms. Jacar, completely immersed in her romance novel Damien until he went to her desk and asked slightingly “What do you want me to do.”


Looking up from her book prepared to reprimand a student who wasn’t paying attention, she was surprised to find it was Damien. “Hello Damien, you can just go and sit down. School‘s almost out anyway” she said eyeing the clock.


Without replying back, Damien walked quickly to his desk. Which was in the back of the room next to the window.


Putting his head against the window, he watched car’s pull into the parking lot. Not seeing the limo Damien snarled and put his head down on the cold desk.


He could feel the stares from his classmates.


Raising his head slowly, he heard the sound of pencils against paper restart. He stared at the clock. Tick…tock….tick…..tock.


End of Ch. 2 Copyrighted 2008

Have asked before(reedited) Opinions Please!!?
Way too descriptive. Overly done. Leave some things to your readers' imaginations. Too much information. An editor would cut out about half of it. Please do yourself a favor and read Stephen King's On Writing. This kind of overly descriptive writing loaded down with adjectives and adverbs until it cannot bear its own weight is discussed in detail in there. It is the mark of an amateur writer.





Did you ever read Misery? You should. You would notice that King goes out of his way to describe Annie. We know what she looks like, how she smells, her little habits, etc. We even know what her portion of the house looks like in just enough detail. However we know next to nothing about our protagonist, Paul. Even the layout of the room is largely left to our imaginations.





Why? Because he knows he has to burn that image of Annie into our brains. He wants her to scare the living hell out of us. And she does. However, Paul our hero, is left to our imagination. Is he King's doppleganger? We don't know because he doesn't tell us. He carefully and correctly limits the amount of information he gives us. We are as scared and confused in this room as Paul is. It is new to us, too.





That is the mark of good writing. Knowing when to add the details and when to withhold them. And knowing what color hair and eyes your protagonist has isn't characterization. You haven't fleshed this person out at all. They are a two dimensional, flat paper doll. For example - I learn more about Lolita in the first paragraph of Nabakov's book than I do in all this stuff you have written -- and Lolita isn't even IN the first paragraph. THAT is how to create a character.





This becomes a huge information dump. One long case of Telling Not Showing. Sentence after sentence you just dump information on us. A good author SHOWS not TELLS. You need to read a couple good books on writing to learn how. This just reads like a laundry list. No feeling or emotion in it. Sorry. Pax-C
Reply:"That is the mark of good writing. Knowing when to add the details and when to withhold them."





Hate to quote another person's answer but Pers. really knows what she's talking about. The key is to be concise, and only describe where it is necessary for effect. Such a skill is very much acquired as you write, as well as read about how to write fiction properly. Buy NOW "Self-Editing For Fiction Writers" and it will save you a hell of a lot of wasted time, read that book before you redraft this thing ENTIRELY. Sorry to be harsh but it reads amateur, hey so does mine at the moment too, it's a struggle, not meant to be easy, but anything worth having is worth working HARD for.





Good luck, and many wouldn't even try, so give yourself a pat on the back then keep going.
Reply:It likes me. You have a talent. I read it all, for me it is cool!
Reply:I have read chapter 1, but chapter 2 is amazing as well. U R getting really far with it and it really gets me interested into the story. I love it so much! Seriously email it to me!! LOL :)





-Freckles



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