I am swamped by school, madrassa, studying, and, you know, living. I feel terrible. I haven’t even written another word yet, and I don’t know how to start again. I was editing it, and realised that there are so many parts that are really badly written and so unrealistic that I almost started laughing. I have improved a lot I feel, as a writer, and I want that to be shown in anything I write, so if it means scrapping a story, then that’s what it’ll be.
Don’t worry, I won’t be getting rid of this story, I like it too much. I will however be editing it majorly, and maybe getting rid of some of the scenes, which will have a pretty big impact on the story. The reason for this is that like an idiot I didn’t have a plan for the story. I just opened up Word one day and started writing, and that was one of the biggest mistakes ever to be made. I didn’t know where the story was going, and often just make it up as I went along, which resulted in the story not making sense, people not being mentioned again and just pure chaos.
Also, some of the scenes are just pure unrealistic. The ‘fight’ scene for one. I was re-reading it thinking.. no way would that happen in real life.
Anyways, sox guys, know I’ve let you down, but Inshaa allah, I will notify you when I do anything, and I will post any new chapters up as soon as I’m done.
As a ‘treat’, you can have an excerpt of another story I’m writing:
I felt a buzz on my thigh, and nearly jumped because of how it tickled. Removing my phone from its pocket, I checked who it was, sighed, and pressed the red button.
No way did I want to speak to my boss at this time. Sure he’d probably, you know, fire me, but to be honest, at this precise moment, I didn’t give two hoots.
“Who was it?” Drops of rain slid down the window as if to create doom and gloom when I replied.
“Mr Boss man.”
“Ouch.” He took a sip, the coffee visibly scalding his mouth.
“Tell me about it.” I said.
“And you cut him off? Double ouch. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s clearing your desk this minute.”
I laughed. “I didn’t cut him off technically; I just didn’t pick up the phone.”
He scoffed, shaking his head. “You and your logic. That’s even worse you know.”
“Well,” I sighed, “I can honestly, truthfully, hand on heart say: I don’t give a shit.” I even put my hand on my heart for effect.
He laughed even harder at that, putting his coffee down and covering his mouth with his hand. I nodded, discreetly congratulating myself for my beautiful sense of humour.
Two hours later and I was standing in front of my boss, with a box in my hands. A box, which rather ironically, contained all my office stuff. I bowed my head in “shame” as he lectured me and repeated “you are fired” in five hundred different ways, hiding the fact that I was ecstatic.
I got home, and was very jovial for the rest of the evening. Although I had been rejected by my soul mate (something which is definitely going to change if I have anything to do about it), I felt like a bird. Finally free.
Even the telly had all the good shows on.
I relaxed on my recliner and got myself comfortable, nearly dozing off when my phone buzzed beside me. I swear, one day, I will leave my phone somewhere, like a volcano, and watch when it gets calls that I would not answer. Then I would laugh manically at the misfortune of the person calling. I sighed and picked it up, surprised to see ‘Mr Boss Man’ in big letters with the words ’missed call’ underneath. What does he want? I texted him sharpish, telling him to just text me what he wants as I couldn’t be arsed with phone calls. He wasn’t my boss anymore, so I could talk to him any way I liked right?
I got a buzz back almost immediately, and I paused, wondering exactly what he would want at such an obscene hour. Surely he’s not contacting to re-employ me…?
I read the message, and frowned with confusion. It told me to meet him tomorrow at nine o’clock sharp. I thought I was done with the job. That meant lying in.
Well, apparently not.
Winter was in the air. I could feel it, like really, really feel it, seeing as I had decided to wear a shirt and a small cardi on top. You can’t blame me though- the day looked warm enough! Anyone could be deceived by the blue sky and sun streaming in.
I stepped inside my ex-workplace, and looked around. God, what a dump. The grey carpets matched the variety of emotions that was coursing through the workers’ bodies, grey walls just adding so much enthusiasm to the atmosphere. Boy was I glad I didn’t have to work another day here… I think.
I knocked on Mr Boss man’s office door and waited impatiently outside, eyeing my section in the big room. Some blonde, busty lady had taken my place, it seems. Wow, that was quick. God knows I hated this job, but I didn’t know people would be so desperate for it! The door finally opened, with Mr Boss man peering at me in distaste. He beckoned me to come it, which I obliged unhappily.
I sat down, though he had made no move to welcome me, and crossed my legs, looking at him confidently.
“You asked for me.” I said, cockiness overpowering my voice. I couldn’t help it. I had to repress myself from sitting on his spinning chair and turning around dramatically, saying ‘You have been expecting me’. (I know it should be him doing that, but who cares for small details such as this?)
“Hm,” He replied, getting a document from the top of his filing cabinet. It was then that I realised that there were papers everywhere. The whole office was just littered in papers, top to toe. I shifted in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable.
He thrust the document in my direction.
“It says that I have to give you something that will help with your future career.” He mumbled, going pink in the face.
“What, like a good review or something?” I glanced over the papers he had given me, disinterested.
“No. Care to read them?” He said, somewhat sarcastically.
I gave him a sweet smile. “No.” I said back, looking him in the eye. “Just tell me what the hell this so I can go.”
“You have no right to talk to-“
I laughed out loud. “I have every right to talk to you like that. You are no longer my boss, and you are wasting my time. Tell me what this is so I can go.” I repeated, a smug smile crawling back to its rightful place.
He sighed, going beetroot in the face. “I have fired you for no other than personal reasons. Therefore, I must help you with your career by giving you something that will give you a push.” He droned, almost like he had memorised the words.
I looked at him blankly, my mind not computing. “Since when do you have to do that?” My mind wondered back to other jobs I had. No-one mentioned anything like that before.
“It’s this stupid company.” He spat, avoiding my gaze.
I had to contain my spiteful laughter. “I thought you were the boss of this ‘stupid company’?”
“I am the boss of this section.” He snapped, and I couldn’t help but give him another satisfied smile. He looked at the door and then at me, and I sighed, standing up.
“Looks like I’ll be seeing myself out then.” I said, walking out and slamming the door.
The biting cold made me shiver unintentionally, and I walked to the bus stop. I wondered where Ivan was then I realised that he must have been comfortably snuggled up Mr Boss man’s ass. I laughed inwardly at my lame joke as the bus came into view. I got on without any trouble (thank God) and sat near the back, regretting my choice instantaneously as some eejit decided his music taste was the best in the world and blasted it so loud that I was sure the little deaf old lady sitting in the next solar system could hear it.
I glared at the teen, making a point to give him the evils while getting off the bus. He looked back at me shiftily. Probably thought I was some kind of undercover policewoman or something. I have to say, I would’ve enjoyed the look on his face if I suddenly whipped out my identification card and arrested him on policy five of the fifth law with the fiftieth protocol or something.
My sadistic thoughts churned away as I reached my house, making me feel like an evil genius. Soon I was sitting comfortably on my precious armchair when I realised I hadn’t actually looked at the document that he’d given me. He didn’t even put it in an envelope for me, selfish bastard.
I read over all the small print and formalities, wanting to know what he chose to ‘give’ me. I knew that the whole thing was a bit iffy, but hey, I was getting free things, and who was I to say no? I wouldn’t have been surprised if he got me an interview for a cleaning lady or something, so you can imagine my disbelief when I saw this:
I’m giving her a plane ticket as it might boost her knowledge of the world and make her more sociable.
He had the guts to write that I wasn’t sociable. How dare he.
Besides that, he gave me a plane ticket?
That was a part from my story ‘Dream’ which I’m enjoying writing quite a lot. Probably because the character is as sarcastic and cynical as me.. mwahahaha.
Anyways, I hope that will mean you forgive me.
Salaam walaykum warahmatullah.