PLease could you read it and 1. Give me a mark out of 10 with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest. 2. Can you give me what grade you think it is and 3. Can you tell me where I can improve/what I can do to improve it etc? It is like a short story and does it symbolise anything? Has it got any symbolisim?

Far gone the days

Denim derrière short skirt. Pierced belly button top completed with black knee high boots. This has what has become of his fifteen year old daughter. Far gone the days of pink, blue and yellow dungarees covered with bright yellow ducks and pink vivid lilies. Far gone the days of rainbow jelly shoes and bright orange scrunchies. Tamagotchis, plastic Barbie and Cinderella lunch boxes and pink, green and orange power rangers. Far gone the days when those chilled autumn evenings, him and my princess spent together actually mattered.

He had always appreciated how lovely those autumn evenings were. The way the hearth was balmy and hot and the boiling hot chocolate would be carefully made by the beautiful lady his daughter would then be proud to call her mother. He pondered pensively as he remembered the hours his little girl’s mother depleted in cooking and catering for them both. Betty, his daughter’s single beloved kitten would plunge into a profound slumber, or what they would then call “Moggy Catnap”. The only thing that has stayed the same over these past lonely years is our living room, anyone who visited their home would remark on their living room. “Lovely”, although it is the standard four walled design it has an instant welcoming feeling as soon as you enter it. All four walls are a natural cream colour, decorated with countless pictures of Emma’s baby, toddler and present pictures. It is also decorated with the one time joyful memoirs of their holidays abroad. Egypt, Turkey, Spain, Mexico where the sun was like the bright, baking glow of a candle and the golden, soft sand welcomed the gently rushing sea, which took the golden sand and the diamond like rocks back to its watery home. Memories of him and his wife embracing made his heart leap, as if a thousand butterflies had been released. It made him poignant that the sentiment would never be felt again.

The rest of the living room is even more impressive. The most eye-catching item was the leathered russet sofa. It was massive and acquired most of the living room space. Diamond shaped cushions lay fluffed and comfortably on each of the four corners. There are various other portable stools and chairs nevertheless they are not as attention grabbing as the sofa, neither was the mannishly large armchair still it was as comfortable as worn out old trainers. There is an average sized black television screen in the middle of the living room, it looks exceedingly basic but it has the most amazing high quality audio, pictures and colour. Last is the chocolate brown carpet that his little girl adored; it was embroidered with lifeless black, blue, orange, green and white lilies and when his daughter’s adorable cat Betty dozed on it his little girl would watch amorously for hours, like a proud parent, as if she was the most beautiful, precious thing she had ever seen. Now the only time she so much as glances at the meagre, maltreated cat is when she swears rudely at it to get out of her way. Gracefully he drew breath, a tear rolling down his old wrinkled cheek as he remembered the days when all was hushed and silent and his princess would gaze at him lovingly with his intense, diamond blue eyes which gleamed like searing, sparkly stars. Even in the iciest of frost, her sweet ginger locks stayed intact. Her tidy ringlets would rest contentedly, artlessly with a loose knot at the end, on her bony little shoulder. Her babyish fair skin would be glowing nearly as bright as her glittery eyes and then she would tilt her childlike, naive head onto her old dad’s shoulder and they would settle down watching ‘Home Alone’ from box to box.

That seemed like centuries away. Nowadays the only second that they barely spend together consists of dreadful parent interviews. When his wife forces him to go, he has to endure countless looks of pity from his fellow teachers. His now hectic and bad-mannered old wife is either too busy cleaning his indolent rebel of a daughter’s room or working continuously. Emma’s room looks like a jumble sale ready to be sold, clothes all over the place, bed sheets she hasn’t changed in months. She had stupidly decided to paint her bedroom black. However, it failed to disguise the haggard scribbles as well as “I hate dad” Numerous times. Emma bought a disgusting black that dried later into a hideous greyish colour. If her mother wasn’t cleaning that catastrophe of a room, she was working. If she wasn’t forever as busy, maybe the family would be more stable, supported. Emma and her father scarcely get along, the minor times that they did mut
5 minutes ago - 4 days left to answer.
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