Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Help (02/20/06)
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TITLE: A Day In The Life Of An Advice Columnist | Previous Challenge Entry
By Tiffanie Chezum
02/26/06 -
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Dear Dori,
I have made a terrible mistake, I think I’m pregnant. I’m eighteen and still live my parents. I am so embarrassed and afraid of what my family and friends will think of me. What should I do?
Signed,
Confused in Colorado.
“That’s a classic ain’t it?” I leaned back in my chair.
“I kind-a feel sorry for her,” Becky peered over the top of her computer monitor.
“Yah, but I got-a answer it.”
“You’re going to be nice, aren’t you, Tif?” she walked to my desk and gazed over my shoulder.
“What-ever,” I rolled my eyes and began to type.
Dear Confused,
It’s not the end of the world. You need to cut the apron strings and grow up; you don’t have to answer to Mommy and Daddy anymore. You’re not the first girl that's had this happen. But, if you can’t deal with being pregnant, I suggest you make an appointment with your local clinic.
Best wishes,
Dori
“Tiffanie!” Becky smacked the back of my head, “What’s up with you?”
“Hey!” I rubbed my scalp, trying not to mess my hair.
“These people look to you for help. You shouldn’t be so flippant … they listen to you.”
“Oh don’t go there, girlfriend. Just let me play to my adoring audience.” I grabbed a small bundle of mail from my desk, “I am so looking forward to next week.”
“How so?”
“Let’s see; a father with Alzheimer’s, a son dropping out of college, and a husband having feelings for his wife’s younger sister. It’s go’na be great,” A smile crept to the corners of my lips.
“I can’t believe you,” my friend sat back at her desk. “Do you really enjoy it when others suffer?”
“They’re not suffering. They just can’t deal with life, and I enlighten them with my wisdom.”
“But your advice has no moral value,” her tone became brusque. “Why don’t you put a little thought into your replies? At least suggest they seek professional help or something.”
“Lighten up, if they didn’t like my advice they wouldn’t keep writing.”
“You should take a minute and rewrite that …”
“No way, girl. It’s Friday night and I need to go somewhere and chill.” I folded my coat over my arm, “You comin’?”
“Nah, I’ll pass.”
I leaned close to the mirror and touched up my eyeliner, you are lookin’ fine. I adjusted my top to ensure my cleavage was properly displayed and returned to my table.
The bitter taste of liquor gave way to a warm delirium. A blur of dancing and laughing passed by in a kaleidoscope of images, I totally needed this.
The din of the club echoed into the parking lot. I walked toward the car, my senses clouded by the veil of alcohol, it’s only a few blocks. I can make it.
I had barely left the bar when I noticed red and blue lights flashing in my mirror. My heart raced as I pulled to the side of the road.
“Have you been drinking, ma'am?” the officer’s flashlight pierced my hazy vision. “Please step out of the car.”
“This must be a mistake. Do you know who I am?” I stumbled as I stepped onto the curb. “I’m Tiffanie Dorinowski … You know, Dear Dori,” my fingers made quotation marks in the air.
Cold steel pressed against my wrists and tears streamed down my face as the officer helped me into the back of his car.
“Bec? Becky, I’m in jail,” a sour lump formed in my throat.
“Tif?” the voice on the phone seemed incoherent.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I’m scared.”
The call disconnected. “Becky? Bec …” I whimpered.
I curled into the corner of the cell, choking on the salty taste of mucus and tears. I struggled to sleep, my mind numbed by booze and fear.
“Miss Dorinowski?”
My eyes throbbed in the fluorescent light, “Yah …” I struggled to sit.
“You can go,” the guard pulled the cell door open.
“You’re letting me go?”
“You made bail.”
“Bail?” I followed the officer. The last door buzzed open, standing in the foyer was Becky.
“Let’s go home,” she whispered.
In her car, I broke down and cried.
“I picked this up after work yesterday, thought it might help,” she handed me a package. “It’s the best advice articles ever written. Promise you’ll read it?”
I opened the box and looked at the book, “A Bible?”
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Great plot.
I have to agree with Maxx, in that the main character is very masculine. Only when I reached the part of the eye-liner did I realize that this person was female. Also, more description should be given to feminine traits like hair lipstick, probably shoes, etc. That will describe her better.
On the whole a good piece.