Question

Critiques please? Thanks :D

This is teh first chapter of my story called "Some Call Me a Thief". I have about seven chapters on Wattpad, but this is one of my older stories and I decided to rewrite the chapters and continue it due to it becoming my most viewed story...

This is a preview of part of the revised first chapter (SHHH DON'T TELL THE WATTPAD PEEPS)

Chapter below

Answer 1

Silence was all I could hear, a rarity in the city that never sleeps. Of course, there was always the occasional car, or perhaps even tourists shouting out in various languages as they dashed around in search of the nearest hotel. But now the traffic had died down, allowing me time to sit on these rickety old fire escape stairs and contemplate life.
Deep, I know.
Considering the circumstances, I live pretty nicely if I do say so myself. I’m not an orphan, but I do live on my own. Somewhere out in the chaotic world are my parents and sister. Right now they’re carrying out their lives, quite possibly looking at the full moon in the sky as I am. When I left five years ago, I faked my death. To this day they still think I’m dead. It was the only way without my family worrying about where I was. I could imagine them putting up ‘lost’ posters around West Virginia, my parents growing dark circles under their eyes as they sat by the home phone late at night hoping for a call. I couldn’t do that to them. Though they love and care about me, they could never understand the ways my mind worked. I had a natural knack for outsmarting people, and because of that I had a wider span of knowledge than the average twelve year old. But there were only so many things a twelve year could do. All of which bored me to death --pun intended.
Currently I go through fake ID’s and other identity fraudulent items through a type of black market, one with very dangerous people who, if I exposed them, would have my head at the push of a few buttons. Without the IDs I go by ‘Ky.’ The only one who knows my actual name is me.
And I’ll make sure it stays that way.
I am a wanted thief by the NYPD. I’ve been on their list for a couple of years now, and as of lately I presume I’m quickly going up on that list. I still haven’t been caught, even though I admit the police have gotten too close for comfort in terms of capturing me. They must be seriously irritated by now, not able to comprehend how a teenager keeps slipping through their grasp after countless attempts. If I was in a hotel, my typical escape route was always the window. Anywhere else, I could get lost in the crowd. One of the perks of being in New York.
I slid my backpack onto my shoulder, hopping off of the stairs and onto the concrete, dropping about fifteen feet until my feet touched the ground. My backpack held my important stuff, like my cash, laptop, tools, food, and just about anything I stole. Even with all of that in it, it’s still pretty light to carry. I rarely set it down, and only after I've closely surveyed my surroundings. It also helps that I have the vision of a hawk, and naturally can remember the slightest details.
The hotel I selected for the night was rated five stars, expanding thirty or so floors. I slipped into the back alleyway, quickly shedding my current clothes in exchange for a more expensive outfit: A baby blue plush sweater, black patterned tights, dark pleated skirt, and sparkling flats that intentionally matched the sweater. I felt like a million bucks, which was probably how much this outfit cost, give or take a few hundred thousand dollars. My makeup was done beforehand so I completed the look with some lipstick before pulling my deep brown hair into a bun.
All of this took about a minute.
I strolled back onto the streets, took a few turns and entered the hotel.
“Hi!” I said to the desk employee, a perky smile plastered on my face. “I’m here to check in.”
The employee-- whose nametag read “Andrew”-- reflected a smile back. “Do you have a reservation, miss?”
“Yes, my name is Karla Black.” I waited for him to look up my alias and swayed side to side, pretending to think about whatever crap typically goes on in the cesspool mind of a spoiled rich girl.
Right on cue, Andrew twisted his pedestrian face into a puzzled frown and turned from the computer back to me, “I’m sorry Ms. Black, but I don’t seem to have your reservation down.”
I threw a hissy fit, stomping my blue glittery foot on the ground. “Don’t tell me daddy forgot to make the reservation again? This is the third time!” I huffed.
Andrew was taken aback and looked around the lobby to make sure my outburst hadn’t disturbed any of the other guests.
“Will this cover it?” I dug out a stack of cash and nonchalantly tossed it onto the counter.

Answer 2

@pooja195 Your like my go-to person now for critiques XD
(Sorry if I keep annoying you lol)

Answer 3

Im gonna get back to this tommrow i promise! :) And no not at all holla at me if u need anything ;) i gotchu

Answer 4

@pooja195
ok thanks bruh ;D

Answer 5

;)

Answer 6

Wow, nice Job. It shoudld get an A+

Answer 7

*should*

Answer 8

@rocketIsAwesome yay thank you so much! :)

Answer 9

My suggestion is to "show not tell" a bit more. I liked your description of that "pedestrian face" turning into a puzzled one. I suggest you use a bit more of that, BUT not too much.

Answer 10

What is your wattpad?

Answer 11

@carlyxphan AlyssaDomo

Answer 12

@toyotaghost Thank you for the advice! :D