I need a paper edited. Here is the prompt for my English 11 class.

I need a paper edited. Here is the prompt for my English 11 class. It has to have one unique character with a quirk, an object that serves as the controlling image or symbol, humor, irony, or a twist ending, a message, in seven hundred and fifty words or less. Use poetic, fresh, atmospheric language and nothe clichés. The following is my story.

Summer Flowers

Everything around me screamed be happy. The birds were singing, the sun was shining and the smell of bacaon and pancakes was wafting from the camp kitchen. I didn’t want to leave the safety of my sleeping bag. It had seemed like a great idea six months ago when Grandma Iris and I had planned my summer vacation, but that was before my world had collapsed around me like a ton of bricks. I think she knew she didn’t have much time left and wanting to keep my mind off her death, sent me to camp to forget her. My Grandmother Iris was not someone you would ever forget. 

I was adopted and although my parents loved me I only ever felt that I belonged when I was with her. She always wore a purple hat and a bracelet with a charm of a third eye. We would go to Central Park and ride horses on Sundays. She always had a dog following her everywhere and would talk to the animals in the park as if they were family. Everyone in the park knew her by name and we couldn’t go more than a few feet without someone yelling, “Good morning Iris, or a have a great day Iris!” She took care of this park and everything in it. After riding we would grab a sandwich at our favorite food truck and sit and share everything, all our hopes and dreams. Back then I didn’t think that anything bad could ever happen to me. I know now I was living a dream, I didn’t see the black cloud hovering at the edge of my happiness. When she died I felt abandoned, let down, and I was angry with her. 

A loud clanking of the breakfast bell summons me back to reality. I know that this will sound funny, but the best part about this camp was the food. The smells that came from the kitchen where intoxicating and the food lived up to its aroma. If nothing else I would make it through the summer with a satisfied stomach. As I make my way to the dining hall I feel like something is following me, glancing back I see the camp dog, Siri. She is a small dog, a terrier of some sort, and although she is a little worse for the wear she has a way about her. Everyone said to watch out for her, and I should have heeded their warnings. I felt a wet nose on my knee and Siri was right at my feet. We were told not to feed her, but I began to sneak bacon under the table to her and she became my shadow. We were best friends that was until she grabbed the camp counselor’s bacon straight off her plate one morning and I was blamed for her bad behavior. This was my ticket straight to KP duty. I had never seen what was behind the kitchen doors and was amazed to see a beautiful woman in her late twenties it was like entering heaven, everything smelled mouthwatering. She wore a purple scarf around her long blond hair and was busy chopping vegetables for the soup pot. She barely acknowledged me as she began to order me to stir this pot or clean that pot and grab all sorts of items from the large refrigerator. It was a good two hours before we took a break. She handed me a warm muffin from a tray and a lemonade and we stepped outside to a picnic bench. We weren’t sitting there two minutes before Siri came begging with her sweet eyes for a piece of my muffin. The cook turned to me and said in a friendly voice, “I’m Violet.” I answered back with my mouth full of the amazing muffin, “I’m William.” She held out her hand to me and as I shook it I notice on her finger a ring with the third eye. “Oh” she replied, “Sweet William, my favorite flower.” I felt the sun a little warmer on my cheek and with Siri at my side I felt the clouds begin to lift. 

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