Olivia, Once Upon a Time (feedback plzz)

This is the rough draft, and pretty much the final draft unless I get some assistance (cough), of my compare and contrast, academic styled essay assignment. Feedback is very much appreciated, especially any type of critical criticism. I'm cheap; even a "U SUCK!!" comment will make my day. Please and thank you. So, without further ado:

Olivia, Once Upon a Time

Childhood memories are curious things; happy moments seem to always end bittersweetly despite how wonderfully they appeared long ago. Perhaps there is some truth to the cliché “Nothing lasts forever.” Yet that possibility never kept me from looking back and wondering what happened between me and my once angelic friend. When we were young, Olivia was unique and my dear friend, however we grew apart as we matured and she became a drug-addicted sheep.

When I met her, Olivia was unlike most other people—but different in the best of ways. She had long curls of faded blonde and sparkling eyes of deep blue. Her beauty was a natural while lustrous one. She had her own style; her fashion, dyed with subtle colors and covered with such fanciful patterns as cartoonish dinosaurs, was mellow yet charming. She was a sharp contrast against a school population of plastic dolls--each one adorned with ostentatious labels from popular outfitters, fake smiles, and glaring hair dyes. However, her most unusual characteristic wasn’t her appearance; it was that she would talk with the new kid that nobody else noticed to befriend. That is also what I remembered about Olivia the most.

Throughout the next three years of middle school, we became wonderful friends, but high school eventually destroyed our friendship as it had (clichéd) broken so many others. To her parent’s divorce and my inevitable moving away, Olivia answered by seeking out new companions—unfortunately, buddies that few parents would approve of. Drugs became a huge factor in her life, and her once petty addictions ultimately conquered both of us. Before, I was a regular guest at her house, but I stopped visiting; she was never home anymore, and only God knows where she was. I transferred to college at the beginning of my junior year of high school. Even as I abandoned her, I never stopped thinking about her.

Our lives met again two weeks ago at the high school’s homecoming game, but the girl I saw wasn’t the Olivia I remembered. She had painted two dark mascara circles around her eyes that only could compliment her hairstyle—short, butchered hair dyed a tainted black. Moreover, her old clothes were probably gathering dust in the back of her closet. To be frank, she now dressed like a prostitute: an oversized, black skater-brand jacket (size large for men) that casually fell off one shoulder, a black tank top that carelessly exposed her bosoms, and black denim jeans that fitted uncomfortably snuggly. Our eyes—my eyes and her new red-tinted contact lens—crossed from a moment in recognition. One of her new friends called out something at her; it wasn’t her name, but she turned away from me voicelessly and obedient. The boy handed her a cigarette and she put it to her lips. It was the last time I saw her.

During the drive home afterwards, thoughts of Olivia haunted my mind. Years ago, she was the sweetest little girl, artlessly charming and apathetic. How could she become a zealously shallow, wordless, sexual plaything for punks? I could only hope that she was happy. In that moment when I stared deep into Olivia’s hollow eyes, I saw a spark of tortured contentment. Caught on drugs, she may have been happier than she has ever been since her parents’ harsh divorce. However, I don’t know if Olivia really is happy anymore; I didn’t really know her. As it turned out, I barely knew her name.

U SUCK!
No, no, I kid.
This is a really well written piece, with some great word usage. Things like 'tortured contentment' and 'zealously shallow,' oxymorons used with great skill I've never been really into high school oriented writings, which is the only reason I don't LURVE it, but this is still done very well. You've got some great talents ^^ Good work.

wow tramp, i came here (after being asked to come and give feedback) expecting to read a story that was written by a nutter (no offense) but i was pleasantly surprised, you've got major talent at writing if this was anything to go off, you've used written techniques that are quiet hard to use write (so hard in fact my English teacher neglected to teach us there names).


if you ever write more about Olivia and that guy you've gotta let me know man, it was fabulous.

Wow, this was honestly a lot more praise than I was expecting. I do thank you both, very much so, for the kind words. I wouldn't have minded the commendations to be a bit more harsher, tad more critical though. And I don't dabble much in the high school genre of writing (referring to literature about high school life), and I'm not particularly attached to the piece myself except for the whole "I actually know Olivia" thing. I basically choose the topic because it was something I knew about personally and could write about. As for calling me a nutter, I have these words of wisdom in response: "I know you are but what am I?" Take the raw force of a Confucius-ly empowered energy kick to the face. That's what you get. I'm just kidding. I'm not terribly sure what a nutter is in the first place. Tell your English teacher that she's ridiculous for me, and if I do write anymore tales of Olivia, you'll be the first to know.

I can sympathize with the character, so in the span of a few paragraphs, I've been informed in sufficient detail of Olivia's growth - enough to catch my interest and wonder about her future, including whether the narrator will move on or pursue the matter further.

I did not feel distracted or disengaged from the flow of the story, so the logic and gradual sequence of events must have been there. There were descriptions that allowed me to visualize what Olivia looked like before and after her parent's divorce, so the imagery is solid.

Based on my limited experience and knowledge about writing, your compare and contrast succeeds - at least, in my eyes.

Good work!