**********PLEASE TELL ME IF MY STORY IS GOOD SO FAR*********?

It was a regular Sunday morning for Gretchen Fields: wake up, turn on the T.V, grab a bowl of cheerios, and slump around in her pj’s the rest of the morning. In the middle of Tom and Jerry’s adventurous feud, she heard a knock at the door. That was unusual. No one had come to visit Gretchen and her dad since the split. Well, except her grandmother Gracey, that old witch was always trying to plan her future. She hopped up and threw her bowl in the sink. She was hesitant on opening the door. She peeked through the peek hole. There was a man; a tall man in a black suit and blue tie. Very formal I guess if it weren’t for that cheesy haircut and 1980’s dress shoes. Maybe he had the wrong apartment number. She would’ve screamed through the door that he had the wrong apartment number to avoid the awkwardness of telling him face-to-face. But she didn’t want to wake up her dad. Ever since the divorce, he had been too drunk to ever care of his surroundings. Eventually, she opened the door. Apparently, the man was a lawyer. He started saying business-y lawyer crap she didn’t understand. Finally, after all the jabber and confidential contract crud, he asked for a parent or guardian. Nervousness swept over her body. She hoped her dad wasn’t still drunk from last night’s club hopping. She grabbed her music box her mom had given her before she left, from the coffee table. Inside was a pair of golden keys to her dad’s bedroom. She snatched up the keys and headed for the hallway. She twisted the keys in the knob and yanked the door open. Her dad was lying in bed (as usual). He had the tele turned on HSN, the shopping channel. Not normal but she could deal. She threw the keys at the headboard expecting the all so familiar drunken groan, but instead a slight movement and then a cheerful “good morning darling!” followed by a bright smile. Was that the same depressed father she had known all her life? The Patrick Fields that was lazy and always had to have a glass of beer in his hand? At that moment, she had forgotten the reason she had come into her father’s room in the first place. So she walked back in the cozy living room and saw the cold, hard-faced man on the couch enjoying a snickers bar. She hadn’t remembered letting him in though. She couldn’t move. Like her feet were glued to the floor. Dazed or daydreaming. Daydreaming. That’s when she woke up. She must have been in that red minivan for hours, or at least that’s what it felt like. It was another flashback. A painful flashback of what was. Of what used to be. Why had they taken her away? Her dad was fine. He was not an alcoholic. He was just stressed and liked to have his occasional beers or vodka; and sometimes even both. She still remembered the harsh words the tall lawyer had spoken: “unstable, demanding, useless, and uncaring.” I guess it was destined to be, especially with a drug dealing mom and “alcoholic” dad. The driver lady at the front asked Gretchen if she needed a potty break. The lady up front had fiery red hair and gigantic boobs. Not usually the type of girl you would see driving a minivan. Gretchen took advantage of the offer and said yes. Maybe if she got some fresh air and a red bull, she could get her thoughts straight. They stopped at a nearby gas station. It had the stench of popcorn, smoke, and gas. It reminded her of the streets of New York. How she missed the familiar lights and busy cars. She missed the stray cats and business men and women rushing to their jobs in cabs or subways. “Just forget” Gretchen kept telling herself. But it was too hard. She was a city girl, not a country girl from an Alabama foster home. She had never met her foster parents, but she heard them over the phone once. They seemed so fake. Like those perfect little families you would see on T.V. Like the Brady Bunch or Cosby Show. Her dad said they were probably just nervous. Gretchen thinks that they’re boring. One of those families that spend their Saturday nights watching reruns on T.V land. She jogged into the small stop-n-shop. She grabbed a sugar-free red bull and a pack of sour gummy worms. The snacks read $7.75. She pulled a 50 dollar bill out of her pocket and now she had a jumble of ones left over. They wouldn’t all fit in her pocket so she stuffed the leftovers in her bra when she didn’t think anyone was looking. But there was another teen around her age. He was probably 15 or so. He gave her a weird look and all she could do was blush and smile. Stupid cashier, the store had to have 10s or at least 5s. She rushed back to the van still red from embarrassment. They took off from the gas station and were back on the road. CAUTION, DEER CROSSING, LOW TREES, YEILD, DEAD END. Those were the signs Gretchen was now seeing. “Must be getting close” she thought as ugly 3 flats started to appear out of the window. Gretchen was about to doze off until her phone started vibrating in her pocket. There was a new text. It was from her BFF, Jessica. Ever since last Saturday**********PLEASE TELL ME IF MY STORY IS GOOD SO FAR*********?
Awesome! but what is it about? could you tell me? Is it like a love story or a tragic or a mix of both or a horror? personally i love love stories. im writing one right now. might think about getting it published. but seriously, intriguing story. please continue writing. i would love to find out more about it. im even considering continuing the story from my own imagination. i hope thats alright. its only for pleasure anyway.



Overall:

Love it but its kinda confusing cuz its not grouped in paragraphs. Continue writing on it!**********PLEASE TELL ME IF MY STORY IS GOOD SO FAR*********?
btw guys,i thinking of making this story a novel.i havent quite made up the title and like the um..whats the word..BASE of the story.it might be a tragic romance.idk,its just something ive decided to do on my spare time.but again, thanx for all of the help.remember the name a.williams,ill be famous.

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so far, it's good,.. pls continue :-)

btw, is it a novel? or a short story? :-)
Awesome I love this story plz continue

(others){ja ja]
No separation in paragraphs. Is this just ONE idea? Too tiring to read it all. Sorry.

A great story must have few words.
Good story. It's going at a fast pace, but I would separate it into paragraphs to make it easier to read for everyone. I would also try to throw in some dialogue, because otherwise your story will be like the random thoughts of the main character and a narrator wrote a story together.