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Written Work by catiescarlett

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July 1
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There was a reminder on the refrigerator door that day, left for me by my brother saying

“Let out the dog”

This he wrote in bleedy purple ink that made a frost-like border around the letters. I let out the dog and went upstairs. In my bedroom, there was a strong smell of fake lemon from this morning when I had cleaned off that spot of hardened slobber the dog left there last week. Right next the patch of lemony scent (which had replaced the slobber as equally gunky), there was a paper that detailed the reason for my “unfortunate” term three English grade.

It said I was doing well. It said I was intelligent. It said I had an obvious insight into the world around me and that I was sure to be a phenomenal speaker if only I would participate outside of class. It also said I couldn’t stop writing. That’s what was bad, that I couldn’t stop writing.

They all told me I was a bad writer. They said I rarely used punctuation. They said I wasn’t focused or clear or careful about my word choice. They told me I had “atrocious grammar” and that I needed to stop writing for myself and start writing for real assignments or they wouldn’t know whether I was practicing “syntax” or not.

I wrote about this. I told God and Grandma and Mr. Casey to please save a spot for me in Heaven so I could write however I felt like writing, focus, clarity, grammar or not. I figured that if I couldn’t do my favorite thing right on Earth, I may as well hope I could do it in Heaven.  That’s all I ever did that day after letting the dog out: write to God and Grandma and Mr. Casey.

My brother found me.

They told him there were barbiturates in my blood and did he know anyone I might have gotten them from. He said

“Patty. Down the street.”

And then he excused himself to go let the dog inside because she was whining on the back steps.

I didn’t know who Patty down the street was. I don’t know how my brother did, or why Patty would go around giving people barbiturates because that’s a pretty dangerous thing to do. You’d have kids dying right and left, like me, except that I’m a special case. I just wanted to write in Heaven.

When I got to Heaven, God and Grandma and Mr. Casey all looked at me with these faces that made me feel a little ashamed of myself and a little giddy at the same time. I was just happy to be with them because they were nicer people than the teacher who gave me an “unfortunate” grade in English. I started writing right away.

The thing about Heaven is that there’s always a radio playing. It’s a radio that only plays one station: The Life You Left Behind. So I could hear my brother and my mom and Billy from next door and the dog, who was always whining and slobbering and going into my bedroom where my mom wouldn’t go because she thought going in there would make me more dead somehow. I hated that radio. It was always on and I couldn’t write, with or without “syntax,” because there were all these voices and sounds and other people’s playlists going on and it was like they were all competing for space in my head.

I stopped writing in Heaven. I stopped writing and I started just listening to what was happening on Earth. When I stopped writing and started just listening, I got to hear stories. They were constantly playing out, these stories. Playing out and moving on and living out lifetimes. People were writing; I heard people writing and could listen to their thought processes and make corrections to their punctuation, focus, clarity, word choice, and syntax.

And when I’d listened to lots of stories and made lots of edits to them in my head, God and Grandma and Mr. Casey told me that that was an important part in the “learning process” and that, yes, I could write without the radio now, provided I made sure to write with proper syntax.

This is for Flash-Fiction-Month-2014

This is July 2nd's story, the outline for which can be found here

The challenge is: 55-1000 words about anything!

This story is: 710 words. 

-----

July 8th

Received a DLR. 

(that's mainly a personal note)

-----

Sept... um... 5th? 

I got a DD? Dude. 

Thanks TwilightPoetess and IrrevocableFate for the DD suggestion and feature. orange heart bullet 

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Daily Deviation

Given 2014-09-05
Heaven - Day #2 FFM 2014 by PrettyOrangeMonster "puts a new and fresh spin on doing what you love--and incorporates a unique feature of Heaven that I haven't seen before! This is well-worth the read." (Suggesters Words) ( Suggested by TwilightPoetess and Featured by IrrevocableFate )
:iconkarinta:
Karinta Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Student General Artist
Like nothing I've seen before.
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:iconfunkforthefunky:
FunkForTheFunky Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014
I am shocked there are not dozens of pages of comments on this. Perhaps its because of the modern aversion to christian themes such as heaven, perhaps some other reason. But that is irrelevant - this is damn fine work and you should be proud.

I love the "shift" right around the middle. At first I thought it was just a simple mistake, you know, that she didnt mean to get the barbituates and of course she did, and if she did then surely she wouldnt be dead, but of course she was, but if she was dead surely it wouldnt be suicide... but of course...

From there it is absolutely mesmerizing. "When I got to Heaven, God and Grandma and Mr. Casey all looked at me with these faces that made me feel a little ashamed of myself and a little giddy at the same time. I was just happy to be with them because they were nicer people than the teacher who gave me an “unfortunate” grade in English. I started writing right away" I felt like I was going to cry when I read that, to be honest. You have an excellent understanding of characters, human emotion, and how to use both and really get inside the character's head to make them feel like a living breathing creature and this is the best example of that - she is beautifully childlike but absolutely tragic here.

And of course, your creativity gets better. The thing about Heaven is that there’s always a radio playing. It’s a radio that only plays one station: The Life You Left Behind. So I could hear my brother and my mom and Billy from next door and the dog, who was always whining and slobbering and going into my bedroom where my mom wouldn’t go because she thought going in there would make me more dead somehow. I hated that radio. It was always on and I couldn’t write, with or without “syntax,” because there were all these voices and sounds and other people’s playlists going on and it was like they were all competing for space in my head. I dont even know where to begin with this one, and it is definitely the highlight of the piece. I love the imagery of the radio, and that is a very imaginative take on "angels looking down on earth".

Fantastic work all around.
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:iconprettyorangemonster:
PrettyOrangeMonster Featured By Owner Edited Sep 6, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks for bringing up what you think is best in the piece. I'll definitely keep those positives in mind when writing other things.

Hug 
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:icontoxicthunderx:
ToxicThunderX Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Wow, this is amazing! A well deserved DD! Congratulations! :D
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:iconnamelessshe:
NamelessShe Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
:w00t: Congrats on the DD! It's an excellent piece!
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:iconleftunfinished:
LeftUnfinished Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
This is phenomenal, unique and intriguing. Congrats. I loved this. :heart:
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:iconsaltwaterlungs:
saltwaterlungs Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
HEY CONGRATS ON THE DD
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:iconthegalleryofeve:
TheGalleryOfEve Featured By Owner Sep 5, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Congratulations on your well-deserved DD!!! :iconflyingheartsplz::iconlainloveplz::iconflyingheartsplz: :clap::clap::clap:
I’m very happy for you!!! :iconloveloveplz: :tighthug:
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