No Drugie Here Mom, I dont do drugs. My voice was shaking and I just wanted to crawl under a rock until time evolved into something else. My mothers eyes where blood shot and huge. And her face was all red and blotchy. Not to mention the million wrinkles lining her mouth and forehead. I mean they werent really wrinkles, more like bags of skin. She just stood in my doorway looking at me. I had my back against the headboard of my bed in the corner. My knees were brought up my chest, my arms wrapped around them. She had asked me straight out if I did drugs. I was in the middle of watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer. And I was mortified she would even think of asking me a question like that. Ive never ever touched a single drug in my life. And she thinks now is a good time to ask me. We talked about drugs back when I was in middle school and I understood fully well what they were capable of doing. You could get addicted of the very first try off of whatever you do and from then on its hard as anything to stop. Bad things could happen to you, like death. Addiction. Nasty words. I was just shell-shocked that she would even think I would do them. I told her, No, I dont do drugs. And she proceeded to interrogate me. No, Im being serious. Are you doing drugs? Because I think you are. You arent being your self lately. Again I told her flat out no. I was going to try to explain how I was being my self lately. Because Ive been doing what I do every Tuesday Night. I watch Buffy. So, I had no idea where she was getting her ideas. And this was really starting to bother me. She placed her hands on the rails of my Day bed and looked at me. I think we should go see a doctor. I was about ready to scream. I swallowed the big lump in my throat. And said, Mom, I dont do drugs. Why would I do them? School was going fine. Nothing has changed all that much. Maybe I ate too many cookies for a snack and that set her off. I was choking back tears and I was really upset. Why wouldnt she get it through her head that I dont do drugs? She shook her head, No. See this is why we are going to see a doctor tomorrow. Her hair was all over the place and she made this nervous gesture by sweeping it away from her face. Mom, I dont do drugs. I raised my voice to make my point. Then why are you getting so upset? she asked. Because you wont believe me. I was crying now. Why should I believe you? I was mopping my face with the back of my hand. Dont you remember? We had this talk about drugs way back in middle school. How they are extremely bad for you and can kill you, My mother looked furious now. Like she was going to throw something at me. Please believe me. I begged. She said fine and left the room. I was so shaken I didnt move for a long time, I just sat there and cried and cried. She looked half crazy. I didnt know what to think. She came back into the doorway for my bedroom. Why didnt I think of closing the door? Her eyes were wider and more pronounced. She looked at me and told me again that she still thinks that I should go see a doctor and that she was setting up an appointment in the morning. I screamed. I lost it. Dad came to the door way and looked at me and immediately asked me what was wrong. I pointed at my mother and choked out nothings. Mother just shrugged and said, I think Johannahs doing drugs and we should take her to the doctor in the morning. I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible and said, I dont do drugs. My dad understood that plain enough. He said, She said she doesnt do drugs so, whats the big deal? Well, Howard. She hasnt been acting like her self. I repeated, I dont do drugs. I was hysterical now. No one was going to change her mind. Mary, why dont you go to bed? That was a great idea! Then she can leave me alone. No. Im fine really. But, she hasnt been acting like her self lately. Dad looked at me for a moment. Mary, she ate all her dinner. And she is in her room watching her favorite show. Her grades are fine in school. Whats so un-normal about that? My mom tried to walk into my room. Dad grabbed her by the arm. What are you doing? She waved her hand at him. I just want to see something. I moved as close as to the wall as I could get. I was crying and hiccupping at the same time. Dad didnt let go of her arm. Howard, please let go of my arm. Mary, please come to bed with me. Youre overly tired and arent thinking correctly. I just want to see something. Dad pulled her away from the doorframe. And held her by the shoulders. Mary go to bed. Howard. I think shes doing drugs. I kicked my feet so hard on the bed the bed was shaking. I dont do drugs. I screamed. I screamed it again and again. Until I was having major difficulties breathing. Dad was pushing mom away from my room. Mary go to bed. He said sternly. Howard! she kept saying. Mary, go to bed. Finally she gave up. I heard her walk back to her bedroom. Dad came in and held me for a long time. I kept crying and crying. I cant believe she would think I was that stupid to take drugs. The idea! And dad agreed with me. She should have better faith then that. He said. I finally lied down curled up in the fetal position of course. Dad just rubbed my back for a little while and winded up my Precious Moments music Doll and slowly got up from the bed wished me good night and closed the door behind him. Johannah Doll

I like your story, but I think it would be improved by Mary giving some hint of what Johannah has done to make her mother think she's on drugs. There's a few other changes you need to make, eg you finally lay down on the bed. Howards speech needs adjusting to sound more adult (unless my being british is getting in the way) so he would for instance be more likely to say "She should have more faith in you than that" Overall though, it's got a ring of truth about it that makes for interesting reading. Shanna :-) just my opinion.

Before I get started, I would like to confess, that being new here, I'm not sure if this is what people are looking for when they post here asking for comments. If it isn't, please let me know, and I won't do it again. > No Drugie Here There appear to be no carriage returns in this at all. Was that on purpose? >Mom, I dont do drugs. My voice was shaking and I just wanted to crawl under a rock until time evolved into something else. Very interesting image... perhaps a little too interesting? I kept wondering what time might evolve into, and wondering if perhaps there were some missing words and the narrator was actually hoping that she or her mother would evolve. > My mothers eyes where blood shot and huge. And her face was all red and blotchy. Not to mention the million wrinkles lining her mouth and forehead. I mean they werent really wrinkles, more like bags of skin. Bags of skin lining her mouth and forehead? I'm having trouble picturing that. >She just stood in my doorway looking at me. I had my back against the headboard of my bed in the corner. My knees were brought up my chest, my arms wrapped around them. This is an example of 'passive voice' the knees are not doing, they are being done to. The "How to Write" books I read tell me this is a bad thing to do. I'm not sure that I agree with any "rule" of writing, let alone this one, but some ideas on how one might make the sentence more 'active'... "My arms tightened about my knees cinching them in against my chest", or "My knees pressed tighter against my chest as I wrapped my arms around them," or even, "I had brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them." She had asked me straight out if I did drugs. I was in the middle of watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer. And I was mortified she would even think of asking me a question like that. Ive never ever touched a single drug in my life. And she thinks now is a good time to ask me. This section strikes me as being rather choppy, maybe on purpose? But the stuff that follows it seems smoother. In fact the rest of it flows quite nicely, making me wonder if it just took you this far in to hit your stride. :) For the rest of it... The situation seems bizarre, and I would like some way to get a handle on it. Why is she horrified and mortified, (and later hysterical), why not astonished, annoyed and curious? Has she any reason to feel threatened? Why would the mother suddenly accuse her in the first place? Why wouldn't the father let her "see" whatever it is she wanted to see? Could your narrator fill us in on some more background, "this was really weird, Mom had never done anything like this before," or "I hoped this wouldn't be another time like when..." I hope this helps you.

Paragraphs are a happy thing. ;-) This is a good start, and the scene itself is believable, but it needs a bit of work. At times, I wondered if this was supposed to be a diary entry because the words tumbled out in a stream-of-consciousness style, but it didn't have the style of a journal entry. Like Sho and lavender, I had to ask, "Why did the mother freak out?" She'd give a reason - it might not be coherent, but the motivation needs to come out, even if the daughter doesn't understand it, the reader needs to. I briefly considered the mother being mentally ill, but there wasn't enough action/reaction in the story to bear it out. Slightly off-topic: As a general rule, doing a copy/paste from Word into a forum post doesn't work that well. You get strange results, like all the ? marks showing up. I always copy/paste into Notepad, then into a forum post. It fixes the Word weirdness. Hope to see more of this, Cres