Young Writers Society

Winterblossoms wrote:Chapter One - Sanctuary

The breeze swept his unruly hair away from his face and back again, making the rough strands brush harshly I'm not too fond of the brush harshly. Show how the hair feels. But overall, I'm liking this sentence so meh. against his skin as he watched the sky from above the tall buildings. The scent of rain was in the air. Small, cold droplets of water were starting to pelt around the cemented block around him, but he did not mind. He continued to watch the sky. Heavy blankets of misty dark clouds engulfed showers and showers of bright, golden stars. Now this is beginning to get purply. But until there, the prose was beautifully atmospheric. The moon was nowhere to be seen. Humidity rose all around him, although the atmosphere was damp and cold. It cannot be humid and cold at the same time. Humid is hot due to the moisture in the air.
He shivered in anticipation of the abounding storm.
Perched upon the precarious edge of the rooftop he was upon Repetition of the word upon, he took a deep breath and sighed, his every breath (inhale sounds weird) cold and biting. His feet dangled carelessly down the ledge, swinging, carefree, and without any restraint or nervousness in them.
He enjoyed watching everything from above, enjoyed the way people looked small from such a high place, enjoyed the city lights, enjoyed the wind, which howled and was starting to billow, threatening to push him off the edge and kill him. God, I love that sentence. O.O A little bit of fear stirred inside his stomach, but he really was not afraid of the fall. He would actually enjoy the fall – the freedom of being able to release himself from the tension of keeping his feet on the ground all the time had always seemed quite exhilarating for him. If you used your here, you broke the fourth wall, which you did. It pushed me out of the story. What he feared was what happened after the fall, how much it would hurt afterward. But that wasn’t what was playing in his mind right now.
He stared absently at his sneakers as if they were the most interesting things that were ever made in the world, deep in thought. You cannot stare at something absently and say that it's the most interesting thing in the world. Pick one. Either would work.

This building was abandoned.

He was abandoned.

This was his sanctuary.

The rain poured in hard.

He ached for warmth.

He was drenched to the bone, his wispy dark locks clinging to his subtle, tame countenance. Dark, sleepy orbs Again you crossed the line into purple prose with the "dark sleepy orbs". I thought they were actual orbs. >>" began to lose sight, muddled by the flowing rivulets of tears from the vast, ominous sky. Heavy eyelids began to slip close. Heavy shoulders began to slump down. Heavy here is repetitive, somewhat annoyingly but changing it isn't necessary because though it's somewhat annoying, it works pretty well.
The rest of his body followed.
Blood splattered all over the wet pavement, shattered asphalt and bone scattered along the walkway with it. I don't think the asphalt would really shatter. His bones probably won't fly away either. Just bend at unnatural angles.
Shadows abound amidst the silence of the storm, unseeing eyes following their every stir and shift; eyes that have seen more than what they should during their days of light.

Crimson flooded the canals near the sidewalk no longer.

He rose from his stupor and walked once again, casually, as if nothing had happened; his clothes thick with a gory mess that even the rain couldn’t disperse as quickly.
His eyes remained tinged with darkness.
He chased after the shadows.

The shadows chased him back.

Chapter One - Sanctuary

The breeze swept his unruly hair away from his face and back again, making the rough strands brush harshly against his skin as he watched the sky from above the tall buildings. I like this sentence, but it's a bit long. Maybe you could shorten it? The scent of rain was in the air. Small, cold droplets of water were starting to pelt around the cemented block around him, but he did not mind. He continued to watch the sky. Heavy blankets of misty dark clouds engulfed showers and showers of bright, golden stars. I really loved the description here. The moon was nowhere to be seen. Humidity rose all around him, although the atmosphere was damp and cold.

He shivered in anticipation of the abounding storm.

Perched upon the precarious edge of the rooftop he was sitting on, he took a deep breath and sighed, his every inhale cold and biting. His feet dangled carelessly down the ledge, swinging, carefree, and without any restraint or nervousness in them.

He enjoyed watching everything from above, enjoyed the way how small people looked small from such a high place, enjoyed the city lights. He enjoyed the wind, which howled and was starting to billow, threatening to push him off the edge and kill him. This is way too long for one sentence, if you ask me! Replace one of the commas with a full stop, like I've done.

A little bit of fear stirred inside his stomach, but he really was not afraid of the fall. He would actually enjoy the fall – the freedom of being able to release himself from the tension of keeping his feet on the ground all the time had always seemed quite exhilarating for him. What he feared was what happened after the fall, how much it would hurt afterwards. But that wasn’t what was playing in on his mind right now.

He stared at his sneakers as if they were the most interesting things that were ever made in the world, deep in thought.

This building was abandoned.

He was abandoned.

This was his sanctuary.

The rain poured in hard.

He ached for warmth. I loved the structure of these few sentences!

He was drenched to the bone, his wispy dark locks clinging to his subtle, tame countenance. Dark, sleepy eyes began to lose sight, muddled by the flowing rivulets of tears from the vast, ominous sky. Heavy eyelids began to slip close. Burdened shoulders began to slump down.

The rest of his body followed.

Blood splattered all over the wet pavement, dismembered flesh scattered along the walkway with it. Limbs sprawled over the asphalt, bent at unnatural, sickening angles. Ewww...

Shadows abound amidst the silence of the storm, unseeing eyes following their every stir and shift; eyes that have seen more than what they should during their days of light.

Crimson flooded the canals near the sidewalk no longer.

He rose from his stupor and walked once again, casually, as if nothing had happened; his clothes thick with a gory mess that even the rain couldn’t disperse as quickly.

His eyes remained tinged with darkness.

He chased after the shadows.

The shadows chased him back.

Winterblossoms wrote:Chapter One - Sanctuary

The breeze swept his unruly hair away from his face and back again, making the rough strands brush harshly against his skin as he watched the sky from above the tall buildings. The scent of rain was in the air. Small, cold droplets of water were starting to pelt around the cemented block around remove one of the 'arounds' as they aren't both needed him, but he did not mind. He continued to watch the sky. Heavy blankets of misty dark clouds engulfed showers and showers of bright, golden stars. The moon was nowhere to be seen. Humidity rose all around him, although the atmosphere was damp and cold.
He shivered in anticipation of the abounding storm.
Perched upon the precarious edge of the rooftop he was sitting on, he took a deep breath and sighed, his every inhale cold and biting. His feet dangled carelessly down the ledge, swinging, carefree, and without any restraint or nervousness in them.
He enjoyed watching everything from above, enjoyed the way how small people looked small another repetitive word here. Take out one of the 'small's from such a high place, enjoyed the city lights. He enjoyed the wind, which howled and was starting to billow, threatening to push him off the edge and kill him.
A little bit of fear stirred inside his stomach, but he really was not afraid of the fall. He would actually enjoy the fall – the freedom of being able to release himself from the tension of keeping his feet on the ground all the time had always seemed quite exhilarating for him. What he feared was what happened after the fall, how much it would hurt afterwards. But that wasn’t what was playing on his mind right now.
He stared at his sneakers as if they were the most interesting things that were ever made in the world, deep in thought.
This building was abandoned.
He was abandoned.
This was his sanctuary.

The rain poured in hard.

He ached for warmth.
He was drenched to the bone, his wispy dark locks clinging to his subtle, tame countenance. Dark, sleepy eyes began to lose sight, muddled by the flowing rivulets of tears from the vast, ominous sky. Heavy eyelids began to slip close. Burdened shoulders began to slump down.
The rest of his body followed.
Blood splattered all over the wet pavement, dismembered flesh scattered along the walkway with it. Limbs sprawled over the asphalt, bent at unnatural, sickening angles.
Shadows abound amidst the silence of the storm, unseeing eyes following their every stir and shift; eyes that have seen more than what they should during their days of light.

Crimson flooded the canals near the sidewalk no longer.

He rose from his stupor and walked once again, casually, as if nothing had happened; his clothes thick with a gory mess that even the rain couldn’t disperse as quickly.
His eyes remained tinged with darkness.
He chased after the shadows.

The shadows chased him back.

The breeze swept his unruly hair away from his face and back again, making the rough strands brush harshly against his skin as he watched the sky from above the tall buildings. The scent of rain was in the air. Small, cold droplets of water were starting to pelt on the cemented block around him, but he did not mind. He continued to watch the sky. Heavy blankets of misty dark clouds engulfed showers and showers of bright, golden stars. The moon was nowhere to be seen. Humidity rose all around him, although the atmosphere was damp and cold.
It was such a wonderful description. You seem to be an avid lover of nature.

He shivered in anticipation of the abounding storm.

Perched upon the precarious edge of the rooftop he was sitting on, he took a deep breath and sighed, his every inhaled cold and biting. His feet dangled carelessly down the ledge, swinging, carefree, and without any restraint or nervousness in them.

He enjoyed watching everything from above, enjoyed the way how small people looked from such a high place, enjoyed the city lights. He enjoyed the wind, which howled and was starting to billow, threatening to push him off the edge and kill him.

A little bit of fear stirred inside his stomach, but he really was not afraid of the fall. He would actually enjoy the fall – the freedom of being able to release himself from the tension of keeping his feet on the ground all the time had always seemed quite exhilarating for him. What he feared was what would happened after the fall, how much it would hurt afterwards. But that wasn’t what was playing on his mind right now.

He stared at his sneakers as if they were the most interesting things that were ever made in the world, deep in thought.

This building was abandoned.

He was abandoned.

This was his sanctuary.

The rain poured in hard.

He ached for warmth.

He was drenched to the bone, his wispy dark locks clinging to his subtle, tame countenance. Dark, sleepy eyes began to lose sight, muddled by the flowing rivulets of tears from the vast, ominous sky. Heavy eyelids began to slip close. Burdened shoulders began to slump down.

The rest of his body followed.

Blood splattered all over the wet pavement, dismembered flesh scattered along the walkway with it. Limbs sprawled over the asphalt, bent at unnatural, sickening angles.

Shadows abound amidst the silence of the storm, unseeing eyes following their every stir and shift; eyes that have seen more than what they should during their days of light.

Crimson flooded the canals near the sidewalk no longer.

He rose from his stupor and walked once again, casually, as if nothing had happened; his clothes thick with a gory mess that even the rain couldn’t disperse as quickly.

His eyes remained tinged with darkness.

He chased after the shadows.

The shadows chased him back.