I need someone to rate my story that's not a robot:

                                              Prologue

My heart's pounding as I sit in the back of my mom's 2010 Suburban, my head repeating the words I still can't comprehend “You need to learn some responsibility. We don't want you to live with us anymore” While the shock and horror was still there sitting on my face. There I was just a day before, 15,  excited for my parents to finally give me a proper birthday party. But I guess that's just too much to ask isn't it. So here I am in the back of a Suburban waiting to get out of the car, my parents throwing my two backpacks full of everything I've ever owned. To walk into my brand new boarding school. 

                                 Chapter 1                                       

I’m Tamaya Miller. And if i’m honest, I think my parents hate me, they’ve always neglected me, like treating the neighborhood kids better than me, never showing affection, and saying things like how they never wanted to be parents. I think it was because I was an accidental birth. I thought that they would kick me out once I turned 18, but nope here i am, 15, and sent off to boarding school. Boarding School. Here I am standing in front of Wilma Maurer Boarding School. I pick up my backpack and walk to the door, my head down, clutching my backpack straps like a lifeline.

                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                  ****                                                                        

                                                                                                                                                     

As I walk into the humongous, prestigious boarding school, it’s quiet, and peaceful. With beautiful architecture going up the walls, tall ceilings, and tall old school columns going up every corner. They're smooth, the engravings making the architecture have dents that make it truly beautiful.  It’s the weekend, so the halls are quiet with everyone hanging out in their rooms. 

                                                                                                                                                  

As I begin to walk up the winding staircase I hear a noise, Excited. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!, are you new here?????? Omg your hair is beautiful!!!!” I turn around while feeling my long, dark brown hair, wrapped into a loose braid. I look up to see a girl with gorgeous red ringlets, her homemade tie-dye shirt and headband a riot of colors against her simple elastic waist shorts.  As soon as I turn around, she starts running towards me and grabs my hands. “What’s your name?? What’s your room number? Are you the person that’s gonna be my new roomie? Oh you have to be she was supposed to come today! Where’s your room? Is it 237?” She asked. “Um Tamaya, and yeah it’s 237” I said shyly, my voice cracking from silently crying in the car on the way here “I think this is most someones ever talked to me.” I remarked, finally smiling softly as I said it “Ha! You’re funny! Come on, I’ll show you where your, or our room is” She said, her witty smirk makes me feel, for the first time today, that maybe this won't be so terrible after all.

                                                                                                                                                 

And then proceeded to run up the stairs, so I followed her until she abruptly stopped at a door labeled with a simple 2. She opened the door widely and the smell hit me like a punch. A mixture of strong perfumes. “Taaadaaa! I will warn you, this is the girls' side of the building so the hallways smell strongly like perfume, except for like the 4th floor, that’s where the people with allergies and asthma go.” the girl said “It’s an um… interesting smell.” I remarked “Well.. um who are you?” I asked. “Oh! Sorry, I’m Amber Smith,”  Amber announced, bowing like an actress “It’s nice to meet you! Come on, let's go.” 

                                                                                                                                                    

She walked to the end of the hallway to a room labeled 237 and opened the door with a off-white card in her pocket. She opened the door and gestured into the quiet room “I separated the room so you can decorate it however you want!” Amber announced with an excited smile. 

 

I looked into the room and saw two bunk beds with storage bins stacked by them, in the middle of the room, pushed to the wall, was a bookshelf, not the aesthetic kind with a few books and some pottery, but an actual bookshelf stuffed with thick books and thin books in the little space left on the bookshelf, and the whole bottom shelf filled dictionaries of every language, from English to Brazilian Sign Language. I looked to my sides, seeing desks by the bunk beds, the space below the desks filled with storage bins. I looked at her side of the room and saw colorful patterns everywhere, her desk being turned into a vanity, full of hair care products and fabric paint. 

                                                                                                                                                  

I walked over to the empty side and set my backpacks down on the bed. I looked around the room one more time and breathed it all in, it smelled like vanilla, cinnamon and… paint? 

                                                                                                                                                      

“Sorry about the mess.” She said “I was in the middle of making tie dye headbands.” “It’s fine! It seems… homey” I said. I gestured at the bookshelf “So… you're quite the bookworm huh?” “Yeah!” she exclaimed “I love books!  The top shelf is non-fiction books, the next two shelves are fiction, the one right below those two shelves are history, math, and all the textbooks, and the bottom shelf is my moms personal edition, language books!” she exclaimed, making jazz hands “My mom’s a linguistics professor, so like, super obsessed with languages, I was trilingual by the time I finished middle school.” “Cool!” I exclaimed “What languages do you know?” “English, Nihongo(Japanese), Français(French), and I’m learning Espanol(Spanish). Do you know any languages, well, other than English?” She asked “Does Pig Latin count?” I asked jokingly “It could!” she claimed. We laughed.

                                                                                                                                                  

“Well, enough about me!” she said with a smirk still plastered on her face “Tell me about yourself, why boarding school?” she asked with a sudden interest “Well, it wasn’t really my choice,” I exclaimed, “My parents sent me off here, said i needed to “learn some responsibility” and “learn to live by myself” I exclaimed using air quotes “That’s messed up, who just drops off their kid to get rid of them” she argued. “Well, you seem cool, tell me more about you” she said “Well what about me?” I asked “I don’t know, umm…. Ooh! What do you do for fun?” she asked. “Um… code, I made some small websites” I explained “Oooh, that’s legit!” she gasped, “Uh, I wish I could do that, but all those numbers confuse me.” “Fair enough.” I said. I layed down on my bed and soaked it all in. This is where I’ll have highschool I guess.

                                Chapter 2

I  heard a knock on the door and a stern voice coming through the door “Girls, come out here immediately!” I looked at Amber with a confused expression “Sounds like Ms. Winters” She claimed. We went and opened the door and saw a tall woman in a professional grey suit, tight bun, and rectangle shaped glasses. Next to her was a short woman dressed in a gray Stanford sweater and patterned patchwork jeans. “Hello Ms. Miller, it is lovely to meet you, I am Ms. Winters and this is” Ms. Winters continued “Is Ms. Anise” Ms. Winters said with a distasteful voice, “We are here to welcome you and give you a little… welcome basket you can call it” she said handing me a basket full of textbooks and school supplies “Thank you, Ms. Winters,” I said “it's nice to meet you, you as well Ms. Anise”. Ms. Anise nodded her head politely. “I would hope that you made her feel comfortable, Ms. Smith?” Ms. Winters asked with a condescending tone “Yes, Ms. Winters.” Amber said, the most shy I’ve ever heard her. “Good,” Ms. Winters claimed. Then, looking back at me, she said “Ms. Miller, I’m your english teacher, and Ms. Anise is your history teacher, have a good rest of your day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

I shut the door, my back leaning against the wooden frame and setting the basket down beside me “Well that was…  interesting. Is Ms. Winters always like that?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, pretty much, she thinks the only way for students to learn is to repeat the same stuff over and over until it’s drilled into our brains. When we had our Shakespeare unit, she had the class read 37 pages of a Shakespeare book of our choice for our final project from memory!” Amber claimed. “Is that even legal?” I asked jokingly. “Nobody would care if it wasn’t!” Amber exclaimed “She’s super respected and like all that, cause she's been teaching for like, 43 years.”

 

 “Well what about Ms. Anise?” I asked “She seemed like… the polar opposite”  “Yeah, she’s the complete opposite of Ms. Winters. The same time Ms. Winters was doing her Shakespeare unit, Ms. Anise did an Improv show of what we remembered from the cold war.” She said “She’s the kind of teacher to have the class make up a song about government branches, literally no one’s failing her class because she finds the most creative ways for everyone to remember. She's low-key an awesome teacher, but she doesn’t have much respect because she’s fresh out of college.”.  “That sucks” I said “She does sound like an awesome teacher though”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

“It’s getting late,” Amber said, her red hair bouncing like a spring. “You want to head down to the food hall?” “Sure, I could eat” 

 

                                                                                             ****

We went down to the food hall, the hall not quite as prominent as the entrance columns. But keeping the high ceilings and huge windows, banners with the school colors of blue and white in a beautiful picnic table pattern stapled above them, the picnic tables are a gorgeous cyan color with white lining.

It's not finished yet

Unbold this and I will consider reading it

 I need someone to rate my story that's not a robot:

                                              Prologue

My heart's pounding as I sit in the back of my mom's 2010 Suburban, my head repeating the words I still can't comprehend “You need to learn some responsibility. We don't want you to live with us anymore” While the shock and horror was still there sitting on my face. There I was just a day before, 15,  excited for my parents to finally give me a proper birthday party. But I guess that's just too much to ask isn't it. So here I am in the back of a Suburban waiting to get out of the car, my parents throwing my two backpacks full of everything I've ever owned. To walk into my brand new boarding school. 

                                 Chapter 1                                       

I’m Tamaya Miller. And if i’m honest, I think my parents hate me, they’ve always neglected me, like treating the neighborhood kids better than me, never showing affection, and saying things like how they never wanted to be parents. I think it was because I was an accidental birth. I thought that they would kick me out once I turned 18, but nope here i am, 15, and sent off to boarding school. Boarding School. Here I am standing in front of Wilma Maurer Boarding School. I pick up my backpack and walk to the door, my head down, clutching my backpack straps like a lifeline.

                                                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                  ****                                                                        

                                                                                                                                                     

As I walk into the humongous, prestigious boarding school, it’s quiet, and peaceful. With beautiful architecture going up the walls, tall ceilings, and tall old school columns going up every corner. They're smooth, the engravings making the architecture have dents that make it truly beautiful.  It’s the weekend, so the halls are quiet with everyone hanging out in their rooms. 

                                                                                                                                                  

As I begin to walk up the winding staircase I hear a noise, Excited. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!, are you new here?????? Omg your hair is beautiful!!!!” I turn around while feeling my long, dark brown hair, wrapped into a loose braid. I look up to see a girl with gorgeous red ringlets, her homemade tie-dye shirt and headband a riot of colors against her simple elastic waist shorts.  As soon as I turn around, she starts running towards me and grabs my hands. “What’s your name?? What’s your room number? Are you the person that’s gonna be my new roomie? Oh you have to be she was supposed to come today! Where’s your room? Is it 237?” She asked. “Um Tamaya, and yeah it’s 237” I said shyly, my voice cracking from silently crying in the car on the way here “I think this is most someones ever talked to me.” I remarked, finally smiling softly as I said it “Ha! You’re funny! Come on, I’ll show you where your, or our room is” She said, her witty smirk makes me feel, for the first time today, that maybe this won't be so terrible after all.

                                                                                                                                                 

And then proceeded to run up the stairs, so I followed her until she abruptly stopped at a door labeled with a simple 2. She opened the door widely and the smell hit me like a punch. A mixture of strong perfumes. “Taaadaaa! I will warn you, this is the girls' side of the building so the hallways smell strongly like perfume, except for like the 4th floor, that’s where the people with allergies and asthma go.” the girl said “It’s an um… interesting smell.” I remarked “Well.. um who are you?” I asked. “Oh! Sorry, I’m Amber Smith,”  Amber announced, bowing like an actress “It’s nice to meet you! Come on, let's go.” 

                                                                                                                                                    

She walked to the end of the hallway to a room labeled 237 and opened the door with a off-white card in her pocket. She opened the door and gestured into the quiet room “I separated the room so you can decorate it however you want!” Amber announced with an excited smile. 

 

I looked into the room and saw two bunk beds with storage bins stacked by them, in the middle of the room, pushed to the wall, was a bookshelf, not the aesthetic kind with a few books and some pottery, but an actual bookshelf stuffed with thick books and thin books in the little space left on the bookshelf, and the whole bottom shelf filled dictionaries of every language, from English to Brazilian Sign Language. I looked to my sides, seeing desks by the bunk beds, the space below the desks filled with storage bins. I looked at her side of the room and saw colorful patterns everywhere, her desk being turned into a vanity, full of hair care products and fabric paint. 

                                                                                                                                                  

I walked over to the empty side and set my backpacks down on the bed. I looked around the room one more time and breathed it all in, it smelled like vanilla, cinnamon and… paint? 

                                                                                                                                                      

“Sorry about the mess.” She said “I was in the middle of making tie dye headbands.” “It’s fine! It seems… homey” I said. I gestured at the bookshelf “So… you're quite the bookworm huh?” “Yeah!” she exclaimed “I love books!  The top shelf is non-fiction books, the next two shelves are fiction, the one right below those two shelves are history, math, and all the textbooks, and the bottom shelf is my moms personal edition, language books!” she exclaimed, making jazz hands “My mom’s a linguistics professor, so like, super obsessed with languages, I was trilingual by the time I finished middle school.” “Cool!” I exclaimed “What languages do you know?” “English, Nihongo(Japanese), Français(French), and I’m learning Espanol(Spanish). Do you know any languages, well, other than English?” She asked “Does Pig Latin count?” I asked jokingly “It could!” she claimed. We laughed.

                                                                                                                                                  

“Well, enough about me!” she said with a smirk still plastered on her face “Tell me about yourself, why boarding school?” she asked with a sudden interest “Well, it wasn’t really my choice,” I exclaimed, “My parents sent me off here, said i needed to “learn some responsibility” and “learn to live by myself” I exclaimed using air quotes “That’s messed up, who just drops off their kid to get rid of them” she argued. “Well, you seem cool, tell me more about you” she said “Well what about me?” I asked “I don’t know, umm…. Ooh! What do you do for fun?” she asked. “Um… code, I made some small websites” I explained “Oooh, that’s legit!” she gasped, “Uh, I wish I could do that, but all those numbers confuse me.” “Fair enough.” I said. I layed down on my bed and soaked it all in. This is where I’ll have highschool I guess.

                                Chapter 2

I  heard a knock on the door and a stern voice coming through the door “Girls, come out here immediately!” I looked at Amber with a confused expression “Sounds like Ms. Winters” She claimed. We went and opened the door and saw a tall woman in a professional grey suit, tight bun, and rectangle shaped glasses. Next to her was a short woman dressed in a gray Stanford sweater and patterned patchwork jeans. “Hello Ms. Miller, it is lovely to meet you, I am Ms. Winters and this is” Ms. Winters continued “Is Ms. Anise” Ms. Winters said with a distasteful voice, “We are here to welcome you and give you a little… welcome basket you can call it” she said handing me a basket full of textbooks and school supplies “Thank you, Ms. Winters,” I said “it's nice to meet you, you as well Ms. Anise”. Ms. Anise nodded her head politely. “I would hope that you made her feel comfortable, Ms. Smith?” Ms. Winters asked with a condescending tone “Yes, Ms. Winters.” Amber said, the most shy I’ve ever heard her. “Good,” Ms. Winters claimed. Then, looking back at me, she said “Ms. Miller, I’m your english teacher, and Ms. Anise is your history teacher, have a good rest of your day, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

I shut the door, my back leaning against the wooden frame and setting the basket down beside me “Well that was…  interesting. Is Ms. Winters always like that?” I asked, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah, pretty much, she thinks the only way for students to learn is to repeat the same stuff over and over until it’s drilled into our brains. When we had our Shakespeare unit, she had the class read 37 pages of a Shakespeare book of our choice for our final project from memory!” Amber claimed. “Is that even legal?” I asked jokingly. “Nobody would care if it wasn’t!” Amber exclaimed “She’s super respected and like all that, cause she's been teaching for like, 43 years.”

 

 “Well what about Ms. Anise?” I asked “She seemed like… the polar opposite”  “Yeah, she’s the complete opposite of Ms. Winters. The same time Ms. Winters was doing her Shakespeare unit, Ms. Anise did an Improv show of what we remembered from the cold war.” She said “She’s the kind of teacher to have the class make up a song about government branches, literally no one’s failing her class because she finds the most creative ways for everyone to remember. She's low-key an awesome teacher, but she doesn’t have much respect because she’s fresh out of college.”.  “That sucks” I said “She does sound like an awesome teacher though”

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

“It’s getting late,” Amber said, her red hair bouncing like a spring. “You want to head down to the food hall?” “Sure, I could eat” 

 

                                                                                             ****

We went down to the food hall, the hall not quite as prominent as the entrance columns. But keeping the high ceilings and huge windows, banners with the school colors of blue and white in a beautiful picnic table pattern stapled above them, the picnic tables are a gorgeous cyan color with white lining.

I see really good potential here. I like you tone and sentences. There is some really good stuff there. Your dialog could be good but you have to properly break it into paragraphs. I think there is some article on that in the help pages here.

The beginning sucks, but it is easily fixable. First your prologue isn't a a proper prologue, and I don't think a for a story like this a prologue is advisable. I can't think of a recent novel with a prologue outside fantasy and sci-fi, where they serve a somewhat different function.

Now the real problem with the beginning is that the protagonist starts by complaining and the effect is quite offputting. It violates the show-don't-tell rule but more importantly you first want to make your protagonist likable. The trick is here to show her do something well. Readers will like your protagonist if they do something particularly well or if there is something else that makes them very special.

Perhaps give your protagonist a unique skill. Maybe you want to start with the interview for admission to the boarding school, where her parents could bring that up. (David Foster Wallace did this to great effect in infinite jest.)

Then try to tighten the following scenes a bit, some of the mundane activities can go. Focus on interactions that tell us a bit more about the characters. I mean yes in real life people just meet on stairs, but in a story you can perhaps think of more exciting interactions. Maybe vary the nature of the interaction (a bit of conflict perhaps), or the setting (a fire alarm, a funny accident, something like this)

So definitely keep working on this. It needs some ironing, but the result will be worthwhile.

This is fairly good, I like the shift in tone in the Prologue and the overall writing style. Watch out for grammar and spelling errors, overuse of punctuation, underuse of punctuation and word omission. Amber is presented well, though the description for the teachers is shorter (why are they all unmarried women?) and I love the idea that you think a teacher teaching for forty years is a guarantee of respect 😊 My class forced a teacher with forty years of experience into retirement through lack of respect once.

It is a nice story but apart from meeting all the characters there isn’t much of a plot (apart from the main character going to boarding school), the chapters are a bit short and obviously it’s unfinished so far. I think you could make it a bit tenser or the stakes a bit higher but overall your writing is pretty sound and there is potential here, you just might need to move a bit quicker to the high-drama or inciting incident (the part of Jane Eyre where she is sent to boarding school might be a good example to follow here) but what you have so far is a good start.

Are you a robot though?

The last time you posted a story here you were definitely doing a lot of whirring and beeping.