By the way, I would like to give Reo kudos for writing such a good review of this story. And I would like to mention that I really did like this story. Very, very well written.
Short Story / My Kite, My Friend (version 2)
I was a lonely child.
Typically, most lonely children have no siblings. They are the sole recipients of their parents’ love, attention, adoration, energy, money, and effort. However, I am afflicted with a sister who is seven years older than I, and am constantly reminded of the reason why seven is considered an unlucky number. It wasn’t only the drastic difference in age that caused a rift, but the fact we had different dads. Our mom had divorced her dad before I was born, and I was my dad’s only child. Looking back I can see where the animosity came from.
But while I would sing silly songs to myself or alphabetize my books, she would be yapping on the phone with her closest girlfriend about the latest pimply-faced stock boy at the grocery store. Most times I found utter merriment in tormenting her in her daily routines, such as but not limited to; showing her my bug collection which was always sure to make her go running and screaming, or by feeding her goldfish, and then a few weeks later, helping her give him a proper ocean burial via the sewer.
My parents could have provided me with some other sort of amusement or entertainment to further enhance my childhood, reduce the resentment, and get me out of my sister’s hair, but it probably would have warped my mind like other children. Although I was a studious, book worm-ish little girl, if they had only bought me a deluxe video game system or a remote controlled car, a Barbie Dream Malibu house with working lights and water, or simply my very own tree house – no, condo!, I would have been a normal child—a stingy, grubby little kid with anything I wanted or the tears to get it with. Either because of their collectively thin wallet or infinite parental wisdom they didn’t indulge me in such fantasies.
Nonetheless, I was content in my solitary childhood with only trivialities like ragged edged books, a few broken crayons, a chipped tea set, and scores of sadly stuffed creatures. I use the word creature because I don’t want to imply that these were any sort of the normal girlish things like brown teddy bears with sad eyes, or baby dolls with cream colored locks and pink clothes, but rather of things like oversized fruit with eyes or nameless fuzzy things with strange appendages. My favorite ones were the dinosaurs. Unlike other children my age I could name most of the terrible lizards by their proper names. The kids would shout out things like, “That big thing with three horns is a killer!” And I remember thinking things like how the triceratops only ate plants and that he wasn’t a carnivore at all! I had all sorts of dinosaur things, like coloring books, movies, lamps, hair bows, a toothbrush, and my most beloved object of all.
I remember the experience well.
Unimaginable was my surprise and childlike delight when one glorious afternoon my dad brought home a present for me. He said it was for making all A’s again. I thanked him, hugged him, snatched the big paper bag from his yielding grasp and headed quickly for my room. As I unwrapped the package, I noticed that it wasn’t edible, nor was it alive, so that ruled out all the possibilities of chocolate or puppies. But nonetheless I tore away at the sheath of paper. Underneath all of it was something I had never seen before. I went running back to my father with the plastic stuff and strings and a very puzzled look on my face. He just smiled and took it from me. Instants later he assembled it and then turned around with more zest and zeal than I’d seen him with in a long while.
And in his hands was the most magnificent kite I’d ever seen. It was only about two feet tall and two and a half feet wide. But what made it so spectacular was that it looked just like a pterodactyl! Clipped to the top was a head, at the tip of the wings were small claws, and the entire kite was textured as if it were scaly.
This kite was soon to become the only toy I played with. During that summer of my childhood I neglected all of my books and toys for it. They sat and waited for rainy days. But when the rainy days came, I merely brought the kite inside and played make-believe with it. Or if it became too hot, I would find a shade and rest with my new best friend. My kite spent more time with me some days than my parents or sister ever did. I gave it a personality and eventually named it Todd the Pterodactyl.
Todd and I would travel far together; only around in the yard of course, but to me we were vast world and time travelers. Sometimes I would even pretend that I was an archeologist on a great expedition and that, instead of discovering fossils, I had discovered the last living dinosaur. I’d whirl him overhead on his short shirt and rescue him from the pine trees.
Todd became my visible invisible friend.
The day was a abnormally beautiful when it happened. My sister was outside mowing the front yard, but the roar of the riding lawnmower couldn’t hide my sobs. I ran to my parents with big alligator tears forming in the corners of my sad brown eyes. I tried in vain to explain what had happened. “My k-k-ite,” I sputtered. Perhaps they thought that maybe Todd was flying up too high and the string slipped from my tiny hands, or maybe I had been careless and torn one of his wings. But it was worse than they imagined. As I stood there trying to explain, still half in shock, my mom glanced over in the yard and quickly realized what had happened. She screamed to my sister, who was still merrily mowing along, to come to her. And with a nonchalant grin she pulled the mower up next to us and painstakingly turned the switch off.
My face, still pale with shock, began to turn red with anger as I tried to explain… Todd was basking in the sun, like every other cold blooded creatue would do on such a beautiful day. I had gone inside to get a glass of sweet tea, and while I had been fetching my drink, my sister had finally decided to obey the orders given much earlier that day and cut the grass. Funny, I thought, how she so carefully waited until she knew I was inside, out of sight. She kept on insisting that she had done no such thing, and that it was purely an accident that she didn’t see the string lying strung out across the yard. She giggled and snorted as she described the way the blades had caught the string and, instead of cutting it, wrapped around the underside of the mower. Tears were in both of our eyes, mine from misery, hers of amusement, as she vividly told of how as she kept on mowing, the string unwound just far enough so that when she accelerated the wind caught the kite, and Todd flew behind her in his frenzied last flight. As she had slowed down, he was violently pulled under the edge of the mower. He was still trying to get away as the blades were lacerating his wings and spraying and spitting various bits of white plastic frame about in the fresh cut lawn. As I looked to my parents for relief, she giggled uncontrollably.
As if the pain weren’t excruiating enough, I was the one who was in trouble for not being responsible enough to roll the string up before I went inside! My sister, who I felt like should get the chair, only got away with a minimal punishment.
I suppose they never knew how much that worthless cheap kite bought on their vacation without me, could mean to such a small insecure little girl. Alone again with no friends left in the world, near total alienation, and much grief because of both, I dove back into my twice-read books. My beaten and bruised books became the source of my consolation and comfort—my retreat in to unknown worlds. The books have had a major impact on my life but so did the premature loss of an imaginary friend.
Years later, I finally forgave my sister. And only then did she finally apologize. She was still mildly annoyed for having to pick up the innumerable remains of Todd. And my parents had also made her buy me a new kite with her allowance. But she and I both knew it wasn’t the same. My parents, the providers, my sister, the enemy, and the kite, my friend all helped me to realize what I am.
I am a lonely child.
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wesguptill reviewed Version 1 -
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sherrylynne reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a story of a lonely child. It touches on some of the reasons for this. It does not depend on being an only child, it can happen to any child who does not fit in with the accepted flow of a family. The story does not flow smoothly. Some of the sentences are extrinsic and some others need more development. The order is choppy. The one incident of the destruction of the kite illustrates sibling rivalry gone too far and underlining the loneliness of the author. The first line and last line help tie together the theme. With some polishing this could be good.
slm
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jordanmbobe reviewed Version 1 -
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I liked this piece a good deal. I found it to be both powerfully emotional, and strikingly real. However, something I couldn’t get over was the fact that this child had such good English at times!
By far the most extreme example of this was; “Unimaginable was my surprise and childlike delight when one glorious afternoon my dad brought home a present for me. He said it was for making all A’s again. I thanked him, hugged him, snatched the big paper bag from his yielding grasp and headed quickly for my room. As I unwrapped the package, I noticed that it wasn’t edible, nor was it alive, so that ruled out all the possibilities of chocolate or puppies.” This paragraph went from intellegent to childish cute so quickly that I was thrown off. I’ve known a few gifted children, but I don’t think any of them use such well maintained English. I realize you are recounting the experience, but it still feels a bit abnormal for the two sentences to be back to back.
Although, before you think I’m bashing you, that was part of what I liked about this story and something that I think you should keep around in future writings.
The metaphor between the character and the kite, coupled with the absense of a relationship with her parents, gives this story a universal appeal. It does always seem that those we truly love are trampled by those that we wish loved us.
I enjoyed this piece. Thank you.
Reo reviewed Version 1 -
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I was immediately pulled in by your piece. You are extremely talented. I want to preface any suggestions for improvement by saying that they are mostly grammatical by nature and that the style and voice of the piece itself is what drew me in.
In the first paragraph:
“energy, money, and effort” remove the comma after ‘money’
“but the fact we had different dads.” change to ‘the fact that we have…’ (because that fact hasn’t changed since you were little)
I wanted to say that the addition of this fact (since the first post) helps to clarify why you and your sister may have had strife. I applaud the way you tied it in with the sentence that follows.
In Paragraph 2
“which was always sure to make her” cut the word ‘always’ to make it smoother
“feeding her goldfish,” drop the comma after ‘goldfish’
Paragraph 3
“reduce the resentment,” drop comma after ‘resentment’
I liked the original expression ‘tree condo’ from the first draft better…
Paragraph 4
“tea set,” drop comma – I won’t be making any more of these comments because, suffice it to say, you get the idea.
I loved how the sentences about triceratops in this paragraph reaffirm the sense of isolation, and therefore Todd’s significance.
(Having some sentences stand alone is brilliant. It brings the sense of loneliness into the structure of the piece, reaffirming the content. It also draws my attention to the importance of the statements being made.)
Paragraph 6 (full paragraph)
“I would find a shade and rest” are you referring to ‘a shady spot’ or an object such as an umbrella?
I loved the change in paragraph 7 describing your ‘travels’ with Todd. I felt it provided a smoother opening to the paragraph than the way you’d written it previously.
In paragraph 9 I loved the addition of ‘like any cold-blooded creature’ because it reaffirms the personal feelings you had for your kite. I would, however, get rid of the words ‘strung out’ in this sentence: ”...didn’t see the string lying strung out across…” and add the word ‘it’ after ‘wrapped’ in this sentence: ”...wrapped around the underside of the mower.” to maintain consistency within the sentence.
I also want to draw your attention to a run on sentence in this paragraph: “Tears were in both of our eyes,...in his frenzied last flight.” The wording should also be clarified.
In paragraph 10:
“My sister, who I felt like should get the chair…” drop the word ‘like’
In paragraph 11:
“I suppose they never knew how much that worthless cheap kite bought on their vacation without me, could mean to such a small insecure little girl.” This is a beautiful sentence and would be more poignant if you dropped the words ‘bought on their vacation without me’. And I agree that the last sentence in this paragraph seems almost an afterthought and should be removed as well.
Overall, I think this is one of the best pieces I’ve read in a long time. Forgive me if I came across a little hard – you’re around my age and I see alot of similarities between us. I was as hard on you as I would be on myself. You are already a great writer and I was inordinately pleased that there weren’t any spelling errors to distract my attention from the focus of the piece.
Overall, your writing is amazing and you need alot less work than most writers ten years your senior.
asylem reviewed Version 1 -
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This is intense. It captures the reader in the first two paragraphs and manages to keep interest throughout. Love the wrap-around beginning and end with “I was (am) a longey child.” The descriptions are beautiful – just ironic enough to be touching, but not melodramatic. Your use of language is simple, yet expressive, making this a great read. The only line I’m unsure of is the last one in the second to last paragraph: “The books have had a major impact on my life but so did the premature loss of an imaginary friend.” It seems an afterthought, particularly when the line before it is so powerful: “My beaten and bruised books became the source of my consolation and comfort—my retreat in to unknown worlds.” I would end the paragraph with that line. I look forward to reading some more of your work.
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