Tracy De Luna

Okay so I wrote a little excerpt for a very very very short story. I want to write this for our school magazine but I dont think I'll be allowed, ahah! But if you happen to be the literary editor reading this, please know that there will be tons of good values that come out of it, and lots of lessons. So you should allow it!! It's about a girl name Tracy De Luna. Comment on whatyou think of it.

I listened to my parent’s car back out the driveway and as soon as the strong whirr of the engine disappeared, I ran to their closet and frantically searched through the clothes. Hangers flew off the rack and clothes crumpled. My nails ripped through the walls of fabric, looking for the frumpiest, biggest jacket I could find. I knew we had at least two because of our family trip to Scotland; we bought these grey and green jackets so we wouldn’t freeze to death in the rocky valleys. They were definitely in there somewhere; they would be good enough to hide my disgusting stomach.
I found a dusty green one with too many pockets and too-thick material, it was perfect. I tried to pull it off the hanger but it wouldn’t budge, one of the tags was stuck. I let go of my towel and let it fall to my ankles as I fumbled around to set it loose.

“Tracy? What on earth?”

My mother was standing in the doorway, staring at me trash her closet, clothes scattered all over the place and of course, my bloated stomach.

“Mom! I thought you left, why are you home?” I yelled, angry and scared of what was about to come.

She didn’t move, she didn’t speak. She stared at my stomach. And stared. And stared until time decided to restart itself.