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Is this a good story beginning?

Is this a good story beginning?
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Please tell if its good and any improvements

Rashid slowly opened his eyes. The chirping of birds and the sound of loud tuk tuks were his personal alarm clock in the morning. After a few minutes Rashid sat up and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain seared in his back where Arif’s sandal had met its target the previous night. Rashid got up from the floor and walked over to the old orange tree in the garden. He quickly climbed up it and perched on a strong branch. The branch was the closest one to the roof of the house and Rashid tensed all his muscles. With one quick jump he flew through the air and landed silently on the roof of the house. Years of living with Arif had made him more cautious about every sound he made. Rashid stood up and looked outside. Street sellers stood on the roadside shouting above each other, trying to sell the rotten fruit on their carts. A pack of wild dogs ran after the tuk tuks that drove by on the pot holed roads, barking crazily. In the distance saw the sea. It always made him gasp in awe even though he worked for 12 hours a day on its shores find bits of metal and plastic that washed up he could sell to recycling companies.

Rashid was drawn out of his thoughts by a bellowing from inside.
“Where is that useless dog?” screamed Arif.

Arif was Rashid’s step father. He was a short man with a round face who had a moustache that was so long Rashid was sure he could tie it in a knot. His skin was dark brown and he had thin wisps of grey hair on his head which he always combed with great care. Arif was an alcoholic and used the money Rashid collected from working, on alcohol and he regularly came home swearing and cursing and vomiting all over the floor. Rashid’s mother Alia always silently cleaned up after him and tried to console him but he used to push her hard and sometimes slap her. Rashid used to clench his fists whenever he saw this but his mother begged him not to say anything to Arif. And Rashid knew that no matter how much he loathed Arif, he was the reason they had a roof above their heads.

Rashid reluctantly climbed down the drainpipe and opened the back door. He made sure he was not in front of the door when he opened it because as soon as he did a sandal came flying straight past him. Rashid gritted his teeth and walked into the kitchen. The house was very small. It only had 2 poky bedrooms which and a tiny kitchen with only a stove and a sink.
The bathroom was basically a hut with a hole in the ground.

Arif was sitting at the table tearing pieces of chapati and dipping them in a bowl of cooked lentils before cramming them into his mouth. Bits of lentil were spilt on his grubby string vest and Rashid’s mother Alia was at the stove frantically trying to make another chapati before Arif finished the one he was already eating. “Didn’t you hear me? Get to work!” said Arif spewing chapati all over the table. Rashid quickly ran outside dodging another sandal Arif had thrown at him. Rashid knew that Arif only kept him because he brought money home. Arif was a milkman like Rashid’s father but he illegally mixed water with milk so that he would make more profit. He just paid enough to keep the house barely running and Rashid occasionally gave his mother some extra money secretly to buy new clothes after she sometimes wore the same clothes for two weeks.

Rashid stepped outside and walked over to the wizened orange tree outside his house. He reached his hand behind the tree and pulled out two slightly warm chapatis. He smiled because he knew that his mother took a great risk making the chapatis for him before Arif got up and then his smile dropped when he thought what Arif would do to his mother if he found out.

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Is this a good story beginning?

Is this a good story beginning?
Share

Please tell if its good and any improvements

Rashid slowly opened his eyes. The chirping of birds and the sound of loud tuk tuks were his personal alarm clock in the morning. After a few minutes Rashid sat up and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain seared in his back where Arif’s sandal had met its target the previous night. Rashid got up from the floor and walked over to the old orange tree in the garden. He quickly climbed up it and perched on a strong branch. The branch was the closest one to the roof of the house and Rashid tensed all his muscles. With one quick jump he flew through the air and landed silently on the roof of the house. Years of living with Arif had made him more cautious about every sound he made. Rashid stood up and looked outside. Street sellers stood on the roadside shouting above each other, trying to sell the rotten fruit on their carts. A pack of wild dogs ran after the tuk tuks that drove by on the pot holed roads, barking crazily. In the distance saw the sea. It always made him gasp in awe even though he worked for 12 hours a day on its shores find bits of metal and plastic that washed up he could sell to recycling companies.

Rashid was drawn out of his thoughts by a bellowing from inside.
“Where is that useless dog?” screamed Arif.

Arif was Rashid’s step father. He was a short man with a round face who had a moustache that was so long Rashid was sure he could tie it in a knot. His skin was dark brown and he had thin wisps of grey hair on his head which he always combed with great care. Arif was an alcoholic and used the money Rashid collected from working, on alcohol and he regularly came home swearing and cursing and vomiting all over the floor. Rashid’s mother Alia always silently cleaned up after him and tried to console him but he used to push her hard and sometimes slap her. Rashid used to clench his fists whenever he saw this but his mother begged him not to say anything to Arif. And Rashid knew that no matter how much he loathed Arif, he was the reason they had a roof above their heads.

Rashid reluctantly climbed down the drainpipe and opened the back door. He made sure he was not in front of the door when he opened it because as soon as he did a sandal came flying straight past him. Rashid gritted his teeth and walked into the kitchen. The house was very small. It only had 2 poky bedrooms which and a tiny kitchen with only a stove and a sink.
The bathroom was basically a hut with a hole in the ground.

Arif was sitting at the table tearing pieces of chapati and dipping them in a bowl of cooked lentils before cramming them into his mouth. Bits of lentil were spilt on his grubby string vest and Rashid’s mother Alia was at the stove frantically trying to make another chapati before Arif finished the one he was already eating. “Didn’t you hear me? Get to work!” said Arif spewing chapati all over the table. Rashid quickly ran outside dodging another sandal Arif had thrown at him. Rashid knew that Arif only kept him because he brought money home. Arif was a milkman like Rashid’s father but he illegally mixed water with milk so that he would make more profit. He just paid enough to keep the house barely running and Rashid occasionally gave his mother some extra money secretly to buy new clothes after she sometimes wore the same clothes for two weeks.

Rashid stepped outside and walked over to the wizened orange tree outside his house. He reached his hand behind the tree and pulled out two slightly warm chapatis. He smiled because he knew that his mother took a great risk making the chapatis for him before Arif got up and then his smile dropped when he thought what Arif would do to his mother if he found out.

Like this? Share it.

Related Posts

Is this a good story beginning?

Is this a good story beginning?
Share

Please tell if its good and any improvements

Rashid slowly opened his eyes. The chirping of birds and the sound of loud tuk tuks were his personal alarm clock in the morning. After a few minutes Rashid sat up and immediately regretted it. A sharp pain seared in his back where Arif’s sandal had met its target the previous night. Rashid got up from the floor and walked over to the old orange tree in the garden. He quickly climbed up it and perched on a strong branch. The branch was the closest one to the roof of the house and Rashid tensed all his muscles. With one quick jump he flew through the air and landed silently on the roof of the house. Years of living with Arif had made him more cautious about every sound he made. Rashid stood up and looked outside. Street sellers stood on the roadside shouting above each other, trying to sell the rotten fruit on their carts. A pack of wild dogs ran after the tuk tuks that drove by on the pot holed roads, barking crazily. In the distance saw the sea. It always made him gasp in awe even though he worked for 12 hours a day on its shores find bits of metal and plastic that washed up he could sell to recycling companies.

Rashid was drawn out of his thoughts by a bellowing from inside.
“Where is that useless dog?” screamed Arif.

Arif was Rashid’s step father. He was a short man with a round face who had a moustache that was so long Rashid was sure he could tie it in a knot. His skin was dark brown and he had thin wisps of grey hair on his head which he always combed with great care. Arif was an alcoholic and used the money Rashid collected from working, on alcohol and he regularly came home swearing and cursing and vomiting all over the floor. Rashid’s mother Alia always silently cleaned up after him and tried to console him but he used to push her hard and sometimes slap her. Rashid used to clench his fists whenever he saw this but his mother begged him not to say anything to Arif. And Rashid knew that no matter how much he loathed Arif, he was the reason they had a roof above their heads.

Rashid reluctantly climbed down the drainpipe and opened the back door. He made sure he was not in front of the door when he opened it because as soon as he did a sandal came flying straight past him. Rashid gritted his teeth and walked into the kitchen. The house was very small. It only had 2 poky bedrooms which and a tiny kitchen with only a stove and a sink.
The bathroom was basically a hut with a hole in the ground.

Arif was sitting at the table tearing pieces of chapati and dipping them in a bowl of cooked lentils before cramming them into his mouth. Bits of lentil were spilt on his grubby string vest and Rashid’s mother Alia was at the stove frantically trying to make another chapati before Arif finished the one he was already eating. “Didn’t you hear me? Get to work!” said Arif spewing chapati all over the table. Rashid quickly ran outside dodging another sandal Arif had thrown at him. Rashid knew that Arif only kept him because he brought money home. Arif was a milkman like Rashid’s father but he illegally mixed water with milk so that he would make more profit. He just paid enough to keep the house barely running and Rashid occasionally gave his mother some extra money secretly to buy new clothes after she sometimes wore the same clothes for two weeks.

Rashid stepped outside and walked over to the wizened orange tree outside his house. He reached his hand behind the tree and pulled out two slightly warm chapatis. He smiled because he knew that his mother took a great risk making the chapatis for him before Arif got up and then his smile dropped when he thought what Arif would do to his mother if he found out.

Like this? Share it.

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