Start - Need some help and critisism

[||AmAzeD||]

As the rain fell on my window i could hear a muffled yelling ,
It was my parents , i tried to go to my happy place but the yelling was
to loud i couldn't concentrate i herd a slap it was silent for a few seconds then they started up again,
as a single tear ran down my cheek i knew i had to get of this place,
the morning came i got ready for school , as i was leaving the house i could feel the tension,
i decided that i wasn't coming home tonight and i would make a break for it and go somewhere new and start fresh,
my dad was watching the television he wouldn't even look at me i didn't understand , i noticed mums lip was cut i knew what had happened
it always ends like this ,
as i was leaving i hugged mum and whispered in her ear "ill miss you" then looked her in the eyes , i think she knew what i was doing but she didn't say a thing,
on my way to school i started to ask myself if they cared if i was gone , i started to convince myself "yeah they will miss me they have to" i said .

The school bell rang for lunch made me depressed the build up of everything , knowing i cant eat anything because i need it for the next few days ,
i managed to scam some food from some old mates i just chucked it in my bag.
3 o'clock came and i meet up with her and we started to walk home she was my best friend in the world we shared a special connection with each other,
she was always there for me and meant the world to me , i spent most of the night with her just hanging out like we always did ,
it started to get late so i told her what i was doing and that she might not ever see me again it hurt to tell her that but it was the truth she was shocked and her eyes started to glaze i didn't know what to do i turned around and ran as fast as i could she screamed my name and started to chase me i was scared and confused i ran to the other side of the road and turned to see her i could see the pain in her face and the tears .. bright lights and a horn was all i heard next
i felt the sky rain her blood onto my face .. i ran to her as fast as i could and cradled her head with her last breath she said " i love you , don't run" i didn't know what to do i started to become overwhelmed with emotions i had never felt like this before , the ambulance and police arrived and wouldn't let them come near her
the two police officers pulled me off her and started to carry me away i managed to wriggle free and ran after the ambulance i couldn't catch it i dropped to my knees and started punching the ground , i felt a strength i had never felt before before my knuckles were to bloody the police officers restrained me..
in the police car i was still feeling this certain strength i was screaming and feeling this incandescent rage .
they took me straight to the mental institution i had time to think about everything but all i could think about was her last words "i love you , dont run"
it was doing my head in what did she mean , dont run from her ? or dont run from my previous life?
i dont know .
For 2 years i have thought about the same thing and with the therapy , they say i am getting better i had a visit form my mum she came in on my 20th birthday i didn't even know i was 20 i didn't even know it was my birthday ... she started to cry when she seen the person i had become so deranged i was far form the person i used to be...

[Ed]

I'll just tidy this up a bit for you before saying anything else about the writing itself, except to say you really should get hold of some word processing software. Open Office is free and it has all the features of MS Office. Worth looking at.

As the rain fell on my window i could hear a muffled yelling. It was my parents. I tried to go to my happy place but the yelling was too loud i couldn't concentrate. I heard a slap, it was silent [silence] for a few seconds, then they started up again. As a single tear ran down my cheek i knew i had to get [out] of this place.

Morning came, I got ready for school. As i was leaving the house i could feel the tension. I decided that i wasn't coming home tonight and i would make a break for it, and go somewhere new and start fresh. My dad was watching the television. He wouldn't even look at me. I didn't understand. I noticed Mum's lip was cut. I knew what had happened - it always ends like this. As i was leaving [left,] i hugged mum and whispered in her ear, "I'll miss you." Then looked her in the eyes. I think she knew what i was doing, but she didn't say a thing. On my way to school i started to ask myself if they cared if [that] i was gone. I started [trying] to convince myself. "Yeah they will miss me. They have to." I said.

***

This is just a quick tidy up. There's a lot more you could cut and swap around. For the word count so far, you haven't actually said very much - I would condense this right down and get onto the meat of the story if it was me. Sorry I don't have time right now to say much more, but I'll try to look back tonight, after work.

[Ed]

As the rain fell on my window i could hear a muffled yelling. It was my parents. I tried to go to my happy place but the yelling was too loud i couldn't concentrate. I heard a slap, it was silent [silence] for a few seconds, then they started up again. As a single tear ran down my cheek i knew i had to get [out] of this place.

Morning came, I got ready for school. As i was leaving the house i could feel the tension. I decided that i wasn't coming home tonight and i would make a break for it, and go somewhere new and start fresh. My dad was watching the television. He wouldn't even look at me. I didn't understand. I noticed Mum's lip was cut. I knew what had happened - it always ends like this. As i was leaving [left,] i hugged mum and whispered in her ear, "I'll miss you." Then looked her in the eyes. I think she knew what i was doing, but she didn't say a thing. On my way to school i started to ask myself if they cared if [that] i was gone. I started [trying] to convince myself. "Yeah they will miss me. They have to." I said.

Looking at this with more time on my hands, now. If we look at the opening paragraph, I don't think you've set the scene well enough for the reader to form an accurate mental picture of what you're talking about. Read it and ask yourself the following questions -

What is the sex of the narrator?
Is it daytime or night?
How does the narrator know there's a 'single' tear rolling down his face?

The sex of the narrator doesn't matter too much, IMO. I'll generally assume a story written in the first person by a male author will feature a male MC, and vice versa for female. You could probably drop a subtle hint about the sex if you wanted to.

Day or night - I only ask because it surprised me when in the second paragraph we find out it was night time in the first paragraph.

The single tear is a point of view error. Writing in the first person means the MC cannot notice stuff like that about himself, because he wouldn't be able to see it.

What you've done right is you've given the MC a problem, and you already have plenty of conflict, both of which are good for keeping your reader's attention. The writing itself is in quite a passive form, though - lots of instances of 'was', too many 'as' words, too. Put yourself inside the MC and really try to capture what he's hearing, seeing, smelling, feeling.

[||AmAzeD||]

oh ok yeah , well at first i changed it because i thought i was writing to many "I"'s

its still need a lot of work on it i wrote that in like 30 minutes i knew it wasn't write but i didn't really know how to go about it i was trying to kinda have the main charterer  talking about himself .. maybe if i change

"As the rain fell on my window i could hear a muffled yelling. It was my parents. I tried to go to my happy place but the yelling was too loud . I heard a slap, it was silence for a few seconds, then they started  again. I could feel the tears run towards my cheeks and knew there was nothing i could do , i need to get out of this place."

let me know what you think or am i kinda off track ?

[Ed]

Writing well is a bit like method acting, I think - it's all about putting yourself in the situation your character is in and imagining how it is to be there. If this was you in your bedroom at night, listening to your parents arguing downstairs, do you think you would write an account of it like this, or would it be different?

You also have to remember that your reader needs to know details. If this is a novel, you have plenty of space to play with and there's no rush - you can dwell on items of interest, like this 'happy place' you talk about trying to get to. Why does the MC want to leave his home, too? He hasn't been harmed. There's no hint of a threat to him from either parent and, as far as we know, life won't get any better for his mother once the MC leaves, so what is the point in him leaving - because the noise stops him sleeping at night? One of the most important parts of a story is the main character. We need to know what he's about, what he's like, what motivates him.

My dad was a violent bastard when he drank. I remember one night in particular, when I was about thirteen and my brother Bobby must have been fifteen, Dad said he fancied a pint and set off in the direction of The Dog and Duck public house. Before he left, Mum practically begged him not to drink too much, but when Dad drank he couldn't just have one or two pints. Once that brew hit his tastebuds something went twang in his head and he wouldn't stop until the barman refused to serve him any more. He'd swear at the guy, call him a wanker, make some kind of lame threat, retreat before he got his ass kicked, and roll home singing sea shanties. I can still picture him aiming his front door key at the lock with an unsteady hand, stabbing the paintwork and slurring, "Which of you cunts keeps moving the fucking lock?" Funny the first time I heard it, until he punched out my front teeth for laughing at him.

Did you believe that? I just made it up, but I think it has the ring of truth about it, and that's because of the little details. You can imagine this guy getting angry now, and the three characters inside the house knowing what's coming. Notice I start off with a couple of 'was' words and a 'have been', to tell the reader we're taling about the past, but the rest of the paragraph is in a more active tense.