writing

Alright. So still working on this story. And I know I've rewritten the beginning about 80 times. Here is yet another beginning. Obviously it basically serves as characterization of Timria and a brief look of her view of Lanif before stuff starts happening. This might even end up changing...I feel like some of it's cliche. But it'll do for now. My goal is to get a sizeable chunk of the beginning done so it can go back on my website. And now that I've lost everyone....here is the scene.



Another awkward, pointless day. At least it was the last class of the day. Timria looked at her watch and frowned in defeat. It had only been 20 minutes and there will still 70 minutes left. She was in English, by far the worst class of the day. Timria liked English. She just hated everyone in her class. She had arrived late on the first day and was forced to sit in the front of the class, right in the middle. She hated being where everyone could see her. Walking through the halls and getting lunch was bad enough, but sitting in the view of 30 other people for 90 minutes every day was practically unbearable.
Every day, there was a look. Or a comment. A patronizing smirk. Hushed whispered after she was forced to voice her opinion by the teacher. Each only lasting a few seconds. But over time, those daily seconds added up.
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