I wrote my prologue, but when I put it on here, some people told me to write it in third person as it had too many ‘i’s’ in it. Which do you prefer?..
1st Person:
apologise for the length of this question! I am a 13 year old girl. I was wondering what everyone thinks of my story opening 
Thanks! Constructive critisism would be appreciated, but nothing on punctuation or grammar please!
PROLOGUE
I push the Cheerio’s around in the bowl, liking how it sounds. Listening is definitely more interesting than tasting, I think to myself. I listen to the sound of Cheerio’s slopping into the bin, and smile. That smile is wrenched off of my face as Hannah enters the kitchen, fully dressed. “Elisabeth! What are you doing? You’re supposed to eat the Cheerio’s. If you don’t want them, don’t take them, it’s such a waste of food. We can’t keep buying things if you’re just going to waste them!” Hannah screeches.
“It’s one bowl of Cheerio’s, Hannah. It’s hardly going to feed all the kids in Africa,” I smirk. At that moment, Dad saunters into the kitchen. He is blatantly still half asleep. After flicking the kettle on, he turns to me and Hannah.
“Good morning, my darlings,” he smiles, failing to sense the tension between the two. I half-smile back, and Hannah kisses him on the lips.
I climb the stairs two at a time and upon reaching my bedroom I shut the door behind me. Every time I see dad kissing someone that isn’t me, Tom, or someone else in the family, it makes me feel sick. I have told him this on numerous occasions, but each time, he says the same thing: “Hannah is part of the family now, darling, you’ll have to get used to it!” I always used to reply with something clever, along the lines of, “Hannah isn’t actually part of the family until you get married,” to which Dad would roll his eyes and walk away. Anyway, that one doesn’t really work anymore, seeing as the two were married last month.
Now they are married, everyone expects me to think of Hannah as my mother. Of course I don’t. Hannah isn’t a patch on my mum. She’s got this wispy, mousey brown hair, hazel eyes and quite pale skin. She’s also really short, I mean, 5”2 short. My mum had gorgeous, shiny, vibrant red hair, bright green eyes, and pale white skin. She was about 5”9, and just about the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes upon. My granddad told my dad, many a time that he’d have to watch out for her, as her beauty made her vulnerable. I struggle to figure out how Dad could settle for Hannah, when my mum had once been his. Every time he looks into her eyes, I am sure it must be a reminder to him of who he has lost.
Or rather, who was stolen from him.
OR
3rd Person:
PROLOGUE
Elisabeth pushes the Cheerio’s around in the bowl, liking how it sounds. Listening is definitely more interesting than tasting, she thinks to herself. She listens to the sound of Cheerio’s slopping into the bin, and smiles. That smile is wrenched off of her face as Hannah enters the kitchen, fully dressed. “Elisabeth! What are you doing? You’re supposed to eat the Cheerio’s. If you don’t want them, don’t take them, it’s such a waste of food. We can’t keep buying things if you’re just going to waste them!” Hannah screeches.
“It’s one bowl of Cheerio’s, Hannah. It’s hardly going to feed all the kids in Africa,” Elisabeth smirks. At that moment, Dad saunters into the kitchen. He is blatantly still half asleep. After flicking the kettle on, he turns to Elisabeth and Hannah.
“Good morning, my darlings,” he smiles, failing to sense the tension between the two. Elisabeth half-smiles back, and Hannah kisses him on the lips.
Elisabeth climbs the stairs two at a time and upon reaching her bedroom, shuts the door behind her. Every time she sees dad kissing someone that isn’t her, Tom, or someone else in the family, it makes her feel sick. Elisabeth has told him this on numerous occasions, but each time, he says the same thing: “Hannah is part of the family now, darling, you’ll have to get used to it!” She always used to reply with something clever, along the lines of, “Hannah isn’t actually part of the family until you get married,” to which Dad would roll his eyes and walk away. Anyway, that one doesn’t really work anymore, seeing as the two were married last month.
Now they are married, everyone expects Elisabeth to think of Hannah as my mother. Of course she doesn’t. Hannah isn’t a patch on her mum. She’s got this wispy, mousey brown hair, hazel eyes and quite pale skin. She’s also really short, I mean, 5”2 short. Elisabeth’s mum had gorgeous, shiny, vibrant red hair, bright green eyes, and pale white skin. She was about 5”9, and just about the most beautiful woman Elisabeth has ever set eyes upon. Her granddad told dad many a time that he’d have to watch out for her, as her beauty made her vulnerable. She struggles to figure out how Dad could settle for Hannah, when her mum had once been his. Every time he looks into her eyes, Elisabeth is sure it mu
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