This is a story I have to do for my Narration and Description class. It has to be descriptive, and I have to show not tell. Tell me what you think, and tell me if you get a good mental image of what's going on.
The Plunge
Jason ricocheted into his bedroom squealing, “Swimming, swimming, swimmmmming!” at top of his pint-sized lungs. With his blonde curls bouncing in step with him, he leapt onto his bed. After a few quick hops on his brand new, blue Toy Story bedspread, he flew off the bed, his dirtied feet hitting the hard wood floor first. He threw open his closet door, revealing neat, clean, and tidy clothes; each hanging on its own blue plastic hanger. His baby blue eyes darted from one end of the closet to the other, then, seeing his pride and joy, he jumped and yanked on the bright orange swim trunks. The hanger launched off over Jason’s head, but Jason never noticed, even after it clashed to the floor seconds later.
With trunks in hand, he scampered off to the bathroom and shoved the door shut. He tossed his shorts and his t-shirt aimlessly around the bathroom, failing to notice his sticky shirt had landed in the sink. He swung open the door and hopped out of the bathroom like a rabbit, his small, dirty feeding padding along the way.
Now Jason stood, his scratched up knees trembling as fast as his dog’s tail when she sees her supper, on the edge of their in-ground pool. Jason was biting his bottom lip, scared of what he was supposed to do. The wind blew, rustling his already messy hair, and causing a loose band-aid on his foot to flap to the other side.
“C’mon Jace! Just jump! You have your floaties on!” his dad called from in front of him. He looked at his dad, with graying brown hair, and a bald spot on the top of his head. He then looked over to his sister, Julie, in her bright pink watermelon swimsuit. She looked back at Jason and dunked her head under the water, obviously showing off.
“Daddy, I can’t!” Jason moaned from the ledge. His mother sat on the shiny, white, plastic patio furniture behind him, sipping an ice cold lemonade. As the wind blew again, the sweet aroma of lemonade caught his attention. He looked over at his mother and half smile on his face. He glanced down at his arm floaties. He touched the yellow striped fish on them, the his mother spoke.
“Just jump into the water, honey! You have the floaties on so they keep you floating. Trust me!” she shouted. Jason’s blue eyes dashed from his father to the glistening, blue pool. He took a deep breath, inhaling the sterile, clean smell of the chlorine. He steadied his feet and closed his eyes. Without any warning, Jason’s feet leapt off the cold, wet cement. His feet and arms flailing, he took a deep breath mid-air. First his feet hit; absorbing the cold, blue water. Then his stomach went in, then his head. Once his entire body was under, he began kicking his arms and legs violently, just like his mom had told him to earlier. He finally broke the once calm surface of the water and gasped. He wiped the water free from his eyes and a tiny but overwhelming grin appeared on his face.
“I did it, I did ittt!” he screamed. He kicked his arms and legs again, propelling him forward toward the edge of the pool. He heard his mom clap and laugh as he climbed out. Within seconds, he was back in the air… arms flailing and all.
Reply With Quote
Bookmarks