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Sceptic

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Points: 650
Reviews: 2
Wed Jan 24, 2007 7:41 am
BleedingHeart says...



Hi All,

Just wrote a small story..

Need some reviews..

Maybe im hopeless maybe im an ok kind.

Please gimme ur comments on this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Time for you to go home my boy.”
The familiar grumpy voice said. But I knew it wasn’t time yet. I was waiting for my friend’s signal. It had to come any moment from now. I sharpened my ears as I punched the card given by the grumpy voice on the machine. My work for today was over but I couldn’t move, not until my friend asked me to.

Autistic”. That’s what they said I was and used it as an excuse to shut me out of their lives. I had watched colours go by me. There were a lot of voices around me. Some were filled with sympathy and kindness but most had a tone of sheer hatred and contempt. I never paid attention to any. All I cared for was my friend.
The voice they said was my mother had given him to me one day.
“ This is your friend Mr. Time,” she had said.
“ Always listen to your friend” her weak voice had said one day.
I never heard her voice again.

From that day Mr. Time was my friend. I carried him with me always. He reminded me of everything I had to do, from getting up in the morning, ringing the bell for the maid, till it was time for me to sleep.

After my mother was gone some voices took me to a place they said was my home. I didn’t like the place. It was devoid of any colours and always had the smell of cats.
The place only had a little bed for me, a closet to keep my things and a table for my friend Mr. Time.

From then on every morning a kind voice would come to me and help me get ready. The voice fed me, bathed me and finally took me to a place where I had to work.
I worked in a place having white colour all around me. Occasionally a blot of dark colour would come and hand me a card. I was supposed to keep the card on a stand and press a button. It was called punching. It was a very difficult job and had taken me months to learn. But the kind voice and my friend were always with me. They never got tired teaching me. In the evenings I was led home by some voices. Then the kind voice would come again and get me ready for bed.

This was my life.
My life went on with the help of two things, my friend and the kind voice.
My mother had told me stories of angels when she was still with me. An angel who would come one day and cure me, an angel who would take me to a land filled with bright colours and kind voices. Sometimes I felt the kind voice was the angel I had heard about in the stories.

“Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”
Finally it had come. My friends sign for me to go home. I had to go now. I gently took my friend and deposited him in my coat pocket. As usual a voice took me by the hand. I could feel the warm slender fingers of the sweet voice. This sweet voice had come one day to my table and had taken my hand. She said something to me. I felt like I was hearing the voice of another angel. Suddenly the grumpy voice came and took her away.
From then on every morning and evening the sweet voice would take me from the bus to my chair and back to the bus. I liked the voice for its warmth and the smell it gave. It was always talking. I felt a strange sensation whenever it came near me.
The bus had reached the place for me to get down. As usual the kind voice was there. On reaching my room she removed my coat and put Mr. Time on the table.

“Stay here for a minute my child”
The voice sounded different as it laid me down on the bed. I could hear it breathing heavily. For a moment I heard nothing then there was a thud.
I called for the kind voice, it didn’t answer.
I lay there waiting but the kind voice never came.
My friend was still there. I could hear him serenading the room with his music. The music filled my heart and my heart was content. I felt happy.
Suddenly he stopped.
I tried to look around. But the world around me had no colour. I couldn’t hear the kind voice. I tried to call someone. My friend, the kind voice where were they.
I lay there waiting.
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Wed Jan 24, 2007 8:55 am
Esmé says...



If it's a story than why don't you post it in the fiction section? The Writer's Corner is more to talk about your story and how the story is going than actually posting it...

Though I suppose you can, if you want to. You would get more reviews, though, if it appears in the fiction section.

xD

-elein




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571 Reviews


Gender: Female
Points: 13930
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Wed Jan 24, 2007 9:13 am
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Esmé says...



Okay, I’ll critique your story if you want, lol. I’ll be correcting mistakes as I go:

Quote:
“Time for you to go home my boy.”
The familiar grumpy voice said.
This should be in one line. Wouldn’t it be better if it were ‘said the familiar grumpy voice’? -But that’s just a suggestion.

Quote:
I sharpened my ears as I punched the card given by the grumpy voice on the machine.
How can you sharpen your ears? And you have ‘grumpy voice’ again. Try to avoid repentance and use synonyms. (Ha! I actually wrote ‘synonym’ right!!!)

Quote:
That’s what they said I was and used it as an excuse to shut me out of their lives. I had watched colours go by me. There were a lot of voices around me. Some were filled with sympathy and kindness but most had a tone of sheer hatred and contempt. I never paid attention to any.
Who exactly? Well, you don’t have to answer that question, but this fragment is unclear. Especially, there were a lot of voices around me.

Quote:
The voice they said was my mother had given him to me one day.
Reread this.

Quote:
“ This is your friend Mr. Time,” she had said.
“ Always listen to your friend” her weak voice had said one day.
I never heard her voice again.
Very confusing. Either the first line, or the second. Combine them if you wish, but it cannot be the way it is now. Also, you have ‘voice’ two times.

At this point I want to ask one question: Who is Mr Time? Maybe you should describe him a bit.

Quote:
After my mother was gone some voices took me to a place they said was my home.
Voices, again? I don’t get them…

Quote:
The place only had a little bed for me, a closet to keep my things and a table for my friend Mr. Time.
Comma after ‘friend’.

Quote:
From then on every morning a kind voice would come to me and help me get ready. The voice fed me, bathed me and finally took me to a place where I had to work.
WHAT voices??? Describe them, maybe. Tell the reader who they are.

Quote:
My friends sign for me to go home.
Friend’s.

Okay, now you are starting to play around with times. Choose one, and stick to it, alright? I know that at some points it is necessary to change it, but nevertheless…

Quote:
She said something to me.
What did she say? And the voice is a ‘she’?

Quote:
My friend, the kind voice where were they.
Uhm, what? I don’t understand this…


Okay, so that’s it. I can’t truthfully say that I liked your story. At about the middle I was totally confused, really. I still have no idea what your story was about - those voices? His/her life? Uh, I don’t know. Also, you do not have much descriptions. It you use them more often then maybe the story would become more clear.

-elein




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Wed Jan 24, 2007 7:36 pm
Snoink says...



Moved it to a place where it will get critiques! And posted the story on the post. Remember, if you want to have your story critiqued, don't put it as an attachment. ;)
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

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