writing strong leads
see how christina wrote different leads for her narrative!
It had been about a week or two since we had moved into our new house in Maspeth. It took us a while to unpack everything and put it all in its right place.
At the time, I was attending a Catholic school and I was an altar server at my church. Nobody in my family really attended church - nobody except my grandmother, that is. This was the common bond that we shared, and even if we couldn't really communicate well, I took solace in the fact that at least we could do that together.
Lead Option #1
"What's happening?" I heard a soft voice behind me ask, sleepily.
I turned around to face my grandmother, who was lying down in bed under her flower patterned comforter. She looked up at me with sleepy eyes.
"The priest is coming over," I responded simply.
"What? When?!" she asked, alarmed.
"Right now!" I responded impatiently, turning back to my closet to pick out my clothes. "Geez, didn't she know about this before?" I wondered to myself, slightly annoyed.
Lead Option #2
I sat numbly on the couch, looking down at the floor, at the same dark brown spot patterned into the wood. My mind was blank; my body numb.
"What's happening in there?" I wondered. "Will the paramedics be able to save her?" I gazed toward my closed bedroom door, where EMTs were "working on" my grandmother.
As if reading my mind, one of the paramedics stepped out. My entire family - mother, father, brother, and I - looked up simultaneously, anxious to hear what he would have to say.
"Tell me she's OK. Tell me you were able to revive her. Please..." I thought.
The paramedic looked at us solemnly. "I'm sorry...we couldn't revive her," he said slowly. "Her heart just wasn't responding."
At this news, the modicum of hope I was reserving inside of my heart burst, like a balloon with too much air, instantly deflating me of joy and leaving me with nothing but mere shreds of what had been.
"This is all my fault," I thought. "All my fault!" I sobbed, burying my face in my hands.