Something Different

[wintermoon]

Alright. I'm getting used to the idea of sticking my neck out there. <deep breath> This next essay was assigned as a narrative essay, about anything, minumum 700 words. I am short on words at 596 words... but it works. So says me. What say you?

Something Different

I told my son I was an alien. I think he believes me. He learned years ago that I could tell what he was doing because of the eyes in the back of my head. When you add the fact that I don't have a belly button, it's only natural to believe I'm not of this world.

"There's just something different about you", he says. "I'll figure it out one day."

When I was younger, long before I had eyes in the back of my head, and long before I lost my belly button, it was just me and my mom. My parents had divorced when I was seven so my mother had the burden of raising a hellion on her own. Each month my father sent a pittance he called child support. The true support came from mom. She had to work full time and raise a daughter by herself. She knew that what she did best was mothering and managing a household. She became a nanny to an affluent family in an affluent area of town. These people were RICH. One of the requirements for the job was that the nanny had to accompany the family; the wife, the husband, and the two bratty kids, on the private plane, down to the private condo, to the beautiful, pristine, private beach at Christmas time. This would work for my mother. Such hardship she could manage. Her only requirement in exchange was that she was a package deal. Where she went, I went. Her motto was, “Love Me. Love My Kid.” This would work for the family. And so began our temporary life with the elite upper class.

It was difficult to fit in with the other kids at my new school. There was something different about me. They could smell it. They knew right away that I was not -- one of them.

My mother kept her wits about her. She did her duties for the family while also keeping me grounded on this planet. In our new world of excesses such as the Rolls-Royce, $150.00 must have designer jeans, Gucci hand bags... and nannies, she kept it real.

One morning I had to have a note for school to explain why I had been late. My mother was good at writing notes to school. I had been late more than once. But this time -- this one note would be different.

Please excuse Sharon Woods for being late this morning. I was on my way to school when she was abducted by aliens. It was only after intense negotiations with the State Department that the aliens finally agreed to release her. It appears that she is unharmed. However, further testing may be required in the future.

Sincerely,
Janice Woods

My teacher looked at me differently that morning. There was a twinkle in his eye and a sly smile on his face. He knew. He knew the truth. I was different. But my mother kept me grounded.

"I'm not of this world", I told my son. "There's something different about me."
I arched my shoulders back and stood up tall as I spoke.

"There's something different about you, too" I said with confidence.

With a twinkle in my eye and a funny smile on my face I added, "You're special you know. There's just something different about you. One day...."
With both feet firmly planted, he looked at me like he had all the time in the world.

"One day, you'll figure it out."

[Perry Winkle]

Disclaimer: If you ask for critiques I'm more than happy to critique. Nothing is meant to give offense. Also, a forum is kind of a difficult place to give proper editorial advice but I'll do my best. Remember, "Those who can't write, edit".

General Rule: Final draft = first draft - 10%

Bold-Italic sections need structural reworking. Comments are in square brackets.

Something Different

I told my son I was an alien. I think he believes me. He learned years ago that I have eyes in the back of my head. When you add that to the fact that I don't have a belly button: it's only natural to believe I'm not of this world.

"There's just something different about you", he says. "I'll figure it out one day."

When I was younger, long before I had eyes in the back of my head, and long before I lost my belly button, it was just me and my mom. My parents had divorced when I was seven so my mother had the burden of raising a me on her own. Each month my father sent the pittance he[the Courts?] called child support. The true support came from mom. She had to work full time and raise a daughter by herself. She knew that what she did best was mothering and managing a household. She became a nanny to an affluent family in an affluent area of town. These people were filthy rich. One of the requirements for the job was that the nanny had to accompany the family; the wife, the husband, and the two bratty kids, on the private plane, down to the private condo, to the beautiful, pristine, private beach at Christmas time. This would work for my mother. Such hardship she could manage. Her only requirement in exchange was that she was a package deal. Where she went, I went. Her motto was, “Love Me. Love My Kid.” This would work for the family. And so began our temporary life with the elite upper class.

It was difficult to fit in with the other kids at my new school. There was something different about me. They could smell it. They knew right away that I was not -- one of them.

[why do you have a new school if you're at christmas time, it seems like you mean over the holidays -- clear up the time period and whether you're in school at this 'private beach' or in a new school at home.]

My mother kept her wits about her. She did her duties for the family while also keeping me grounded on this planet. In our new world of excesses such as the Rolls-Royce, $150.00 must have designer jeans, Gucci hand bags... and nannies, she kept it real.

One morning I had to have a note for school to explain why I had been late. My mother was good at writing notes to school. I had been late more than once. But this time -- this one note would be different.

Please excuse Sharon Woods for being late this morning. I was on my way to school when she was abducted by aliens. It was only after intense negotiations with the State Department that the aliens finally agreed to release her. It appears that she is unharmed. However, further testing may be required in the future.

Sincerely,
Janice Woods

My teacher looked at me differently that morning. There was a twinkle in his eye and a sly smile on his face. He knew. He knew the truth. I was different. But my mother kept me grounded.

"I'm not of this world", I told my son. "There's something different about me."
I arched my shoulders back and stood up tall as I spoke.

"There's something different about you, too" I said with confidence.

[your son tells you there's something different about you before the flashback, now you repeat his statement back...redundant. I would stick with just the line above, "There's ... you, too". Lastly periods at the end of sentences go outside the quotes if I recall correctly.]

With a twinkle in my eye and a funny smile on my face I added, "You're special you know. There's just something different about you. One day...."
With both feet firmly planted, he looked at me like he had all the time in the world.

[I really don't think you need to add yet another time that "There's ... about you"]

"One day, you'll figure it out."

I think I see where you're trying to go with this story. I think you need to put a finer point on things. Other than the abduction letter there is nothing in the flashback that relates to you being different. There should also be a bit more narrative to your narrative.