Help, criticise, continue, do something.
 

Hi! My name is Quang, i am currently learning english so i thought writing a story might help. So, i started to write and hit dead end, i dont know what should i write next.

I got a couple ideas but they all seems ridiculous. BTW the main character got some short split personality, that why he cant remember anything last night because the other guy was on after he panicked and fainted.

Please help me with some suggestion, i know the grammar is bad if someone can point out my mistakes it would be good.

HERE GO

April 19th, dark night, cloudy sky with no moon, a perfect night for the unspeakable treacherous act to unfold. I waited impatiently in my room; a cigarette on my left hand, the blue print was in the other hand. I try to look in the dim light to the direction of the hands of the clock which display 9.30. My heart is racing now; heart rate is exponential increase with every ‘tick’ the clock makes, sweating profusing. I heard the sound of the floor clashing against my accomplice’s heavy boot. THUD, Thud………THUD, Thud…………THUD. As the sound draw closer, the more relentless I get. My head will burst any moment now. I try to think, nothing come to minds but a constant Buzzing…..Buzzzzz….. BUZZZ. All hell breaks loose, the dim light seems to get dimmer until a complete darkness.

The alarm sound drill into my eardrums, the same annoying BEEP that bugs and wakes me up everyday. My arms and legs feel heavy; I feel the malaise and weakness in those limbs. As my right hand steadily marching its daily course to reach for the alarm, a sudden sharp and shooting pains originating from my torso. The sharp pain conducts its path toward my brain, travelling at the speed of light and hitting fiercely at the adrenaline bank. The barrier broke, the adrenaline floods, I quickly gain conscious. Two quick things come to minds, first is the pain which subsided now and become dull probably because of the adrenaline, second is the delight of how much I still remember about adrenaline. I have always enjoyed biology class, “fight or fly reaction…. Adrenaline, neurotransmitter, chemical respondent to obnoxious stimulus, make the heart beat faster and the head more alert” I thought. My right hand stops the alarm and its harassing noise. I open my eyelids; the light shines through the gap of the window’s curtains imprints a vertical mark in my room. I know then it is the morning of April 20th and suddenly, I can feel the corners of my mouth is moving upward involuntary, making a big grin on my face. It was good, it was a success.

Daily routines ensure as usual, after the bathroom trip, I settle down at the kitchen table for some cereal breakfast, two third milk and one third cereal. My partner will make his accession to the kitchen any minutes. I anticipate his arrival eagerly for I want to know about the details of last night. Thud… thud….thud, that same sound, I direct my eyes to the kitchen entrant and watch him make his way to the table.
“G’ morning, Dave” I pass the cereal box to his side of the table, he gave me a quick yawn and say “Hey, G’ morning” back.
“How did it go last night? Do you might telling me about the details?............ I am sorry, but I know it is a lot of questions to ask in early morning.” Politely I ask, Dave look tired and I do not tempt to aggravate him.
“Everything went according to plan; you have nothing to worry about.” He paused to answer my question and commence digging his spoon to the cereal bowl immediately after. I take it as a site he does not want to talk, so I try to ask the final question.
“What about my injuries?”
“Oh, that come from the security……….. Do you know what to do next?”
“I know, Dave, I know my duty, you have nothing to worry about.”
We finish the breakfast in silence and before leaving, Dave told me he has business to attend to.

An interesting start, leaves many questions, in a good way.

I got some freetime, so i tried to continue the story, please leave some comment guys. And thanks manganimefan227, i am glad i was able to leave some short of questions.

The Park

The breakfast finished, Dave left and I was getting ready to leave too. It was a cool and relaxing morning, I putted on my favourite shirt and jean then made my way to the door and left. My destination, Renown Central Park, walking in the north direction from my house for about two hundred meters, turn right at Tait street, at the second roundabout take the first exist, the park is up ahead in another hundred meters. As usual, I always saw a few pedestrians and runners on my route, some appeared to be up early for a morning run and only god know what sinister the others are up to or already done to be wandering around in this ungodly early hours. As I was walking past those strangers, a few nodded their head at me, a few said ‘hi’ and I returned back the favour. Even though, I found the gesture to be empty and superficial for I do not know any of them.

Renown Central Park is about 2-3 acres in area, the perimeter is lined with tall woody trees. The pedestrian lines divide the park into multiple areas, at the centre is a football field, up on the Northeast corner is the children playground, down on the Southwest corner are the picnic area and numerous benches even distributed throughout the park. I sat down on one of my favourite benches, my thought started to drift. Images from the past flashed one after another, I saw faces familiar and strange, places of childhood, sadness and joy. I come to the park often to think, I would sit there for hours and by the end of it I would felt such joy of resolution. The park is my secret place where I go for answer.

I tried to think about what happened last night. The more I thought about it, the more vivid Dave’s images appeared. I guess it all started with Dave.

Hi! This is the next part of the story, it's described the orphanage where the main character grew up.

St. Patrick Orphanage

I was born July 17th 1985 at Albert Memorial Hospital. My mother name is Karen Louis Smyth. That is all I ever known of my mom. I later tried to find out more information about who she was and why did she do it, but I don’t think I will tell that story now. She left the hospital soon after she laboured me and she also left me a letter, which I didn’t know of its existence until I turned 16.

I was brought up by the people at St. Patrick Orphanage, the same people that gave me my name, Michael James Smyth. My name was picked by the good book, the bible; Michael, the archangel who defended humanity and casted Satan out of paradise; James, the first of the Twelve Apostles of Jesus, one of only three apostles whom Jesus selected to bear witness to his Transfiguration. I spent my earliest 16 years of life there at the orphanage.

St. Patrick orphanage was first established in December 1944 during the high of War World 2. Even though, Australia was not heavily involved with the war, there was a great influx of orphans from Europe whose parent who killed during the war, in particularly British Empire. Those orphans were transferred to Australia to establishments such as St. Patrick orphanage and then adopted to their foster family. This movement was a treaty formed between the Commonwealth countries, between British Empire and Australia, New Zealand. Initially, St. Patrick orphanage was mostly funded by the Australian government and a lesser proportions from the church’s charities. The orphans typically didn’t stay very long, they would soon be adopted by couples who wanted children, some were happy stories and some was not so happy ones. After the end of World War 2, the stream of orphan from Europe ceased and St. Patrick orphanage‘s operation eventually came to a unfortunate end. Until 26th July 1979, St. Patrick orphanage was reopened by the church because it was deemed necessity to do so. It was a sad thing that at the end of the great 20th Century, humans’ life was never easier than before, food supply is in abundant, electricity and technology provide the ease, convenient of daily life and parent abandoned their own children.

Being built at during the 1940s, the orphanage took an old and respectable look. The house’s exterior wall was made by stone, its built was meant to last. The architecture was a resemblance of the early structures of the Victorian house and church. St. Patrick stood solemnly on a highland region in the north east outskirt of Adelaide city; the building structure has the shape of an inverted T ( ___I___ ). The East and West wing are children’s beds, in the middle of the T-junction is the hall and front entrant, the north wing was the principle office, kitchen and staff rooms. There is also another entrant at the end of north wing. I must say it wasn’t a particularly fire safety building for the children, however thank to god there was no fire broke out during its operation days.



Stay tuned - the next part is Childhood, and how the main character meet Dave.


PS. BTW my grammar is really bad, if would be a great thing if someone can fix it. Thanks!