Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Would you please correct the mistakes in my text?
Something must have happened to Bob, an accident, or an illness. He was probably lying in the emergency ward, unable to speak and walk. She had to call the A&E and inquire whether they had admitted the patient with his name or matching his description. She took her mobile phone and wanted to make a call when her eyes fell on the dressing table. Her jewel box was not there. Her gaze darted from one side of the room to the other, but the box was nowhere to be seen. She opened the wardrobe and rummaged through her expensive dresses and jackets, and pulled the clothes off the shelves and threw them onto the carpet, while panic inside her grew. He had another box with cash in a chest of drawers, but it had disappeared too. The voice inside her whispered her beloved had robbed her, but she refused to listen. She saw herself in the mirror and recoiled. Her dark eyes were like a frightened animal’s. She paced the room, not knowing what to do until she slumped on the edge of the bed and started screaming, tearing at her hair. Her mother rushed into the room and, seeing her daughter in distress, fell on her knees in front of her and gazed into her tearful eyes.
“It’s Bob. He took my jewellery and money,” Lisa said and dissolved into sobs and wails.
“Lisa, don’t cry,” her mother said, “he is not worth your tears. I had a hunch something was wrong with him but thought I had no right to spoil you happiness.” She stood up, stroked Lisa’s hair and kissed the top of her head. Lisa looked up at her with her dazed eyes and buried her head into her hands, wailing like a lost child. Her mother calmly walked out, and through the opened door Lisa heard her talking to the police. She gave an accurate description of the man Lisa just a few moments before believed was the love of her life: tall, muscular, suntanned, short blond hair, well-groomed and smooth-talking. Her mother was usually cool-headed, which was the opposite of her daughter’s ways. Lisa was sensitive, sentimental, and ready to offer a shoulder to cry on. Now she was not only inconsolable but also suffered enormous shame. More than a hundred guests had been invited, and they all had to be informed that the wedding had been called off.
When people eventually found out the reason for it, she would become an object of ridicule and mockery. She would never be able to walk the streets without noticing people’s malicious stares and hearing their derogatory comments. She remembered how before she laughed at the women who had become victims of different conmen online. She couldn’t believe they could be so naive and send money to the men they had only met on networking sites. She watched them on TV as they were crying and telling their stories about their dream men, who promised them the marriage and the life in happiness until the end of their days. The men needed money for different reasons, and the women gave them everything they wanted, without asking themselves why already successful men needed their hard-earned money. The women were mostly middle-aged, plain and obese, and they were holding pictures of handsome and well-muscled men, talking about them as if they were their real lovers. Their naivety and delusion made Lisa angry and she shouted at the TV screen, “You stupid cows! Even if these men existed, why should they choose you when they could chose between hundreds of others women, more younger and beautiful then you? You got what you deserved.” Now she had become one of them. People were going to point at her and say, “Look at her! She looks like a turtle, but once she has believed she met a prince.” She didn’t care much what men were going to say, but she knew how women can be spiteful to each other, and how they were going to hurt her on every occasion, if they got an opportunity.
TO BE CONTINUED
Something must have happened to Bob, an accident, or an illness. He was probably lying in the emergency ward, unable to speak and walk. She had to call the A&E and inquire whether they had admitted the patient with his name or matching his description. She took her mobile phone and wanted to make a call when her eyes fell on the dressing table. Her jewel box was not there. Her gaze darted from one side of the room to the other, but the box was nowhere to be seen. She opened the wardrobe and rummaged through her expensive dresses and jackets, and pulled the clothes off the shelves and threw them onto the carpet, while panic inside her grew. He had another box with cash in a chest of drawers, but it had disappeared too. The voice inside her whispered her beloved had robbed her, but she refused to listen. She saw herself in the mirror and recoiled. Her dark eyes were like a frightened animal’s. She paced the room, not knowing what to do until she slumped on the edge of the bed and started screaming, tearing at her hair. Her mother rushed into the room and, seeing her daughter in distress, fell on her knees in front of her and gazed into her tearful eyes.
“It’s Bob. He took my jewellery and money,” Lisa said and dissolved into sobs and wails.
“Lisa, don’t cry,” her mother said, “he is not worth your tears. I had a hunch something was wrong with him but thought I had no right to spoil you happiness.” She stood up, stroked Lisa’s hair and kissed the top of her head. Lisa looked up at her with her dazed eyes and buried her head into her hands, wailing like a lost child. Her mother calmly walked out, and through the opened door Lisa heard her talking to the police. She gave an accurate description of the man Lisa just a few moments before believed was the love of her life: tall, muscular, suntanned, short blond hair, well-groomed and smooth-talking. Her mother was usually cool-headed, which was the opposite of her daughter’s ways. Lisa was sensitive, sentimental, and ready to offer a shoulder to cry on. Now she was not only inconsolable but also suffered enormous shame. More than a hundred guests had been invited, and they all had to be informed that the wedding had been called off.
When people eventually found out the reason for it, she would become an object of ridicule and mockery. She would never be able to walk the streets without noticing people’s malicious stares and hearing their derogatory comments. She remembered how before she laughed at the women who had become victims of different conmen online. She couldn’t believe they could be so naive and send money to the men they had only met on networking sites. She watched them on TV as they were crying and telling their stories about their dream men, who promised them the marriage and the life in happiness until the end of their days. The men needed money for different reasons, and the women gave them everything they wanted, without asking themselves why already successful men needed their hard-earned money. The women were mostly middle-aged, plain and obese, and they were holding pictures of handsome and well-muscled men, talking about them as if they were their real lovers. Their naivety and delusion made Lisa angry and she shouted at the TV screen, “You stupid cows! Even if these men existed, why should they choose you when they could chose between hundreds of others women, more younger and beautiful then you? You got what you deserved.” Now she had become one of them. People were going to point at her and say, “Look at her! She looks like a turtle, but once she has believed she met a prince.” She didn’t care much what men were going to say, but she knew how women can be spiteful to each other, and how they were going to hurt her on every occasion, if they got an opportunity.
TO BE CONTINUED
