The World of the Dreamers

nvm

nvm

As the owl outside rustled its feathers to rid them of snow, the boy inside the large, quiet house shook violently in his bed. Even though it was a frozen still winter night, sweat poured down his face as his eyes fluttered. Even if you looked at him you couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on inside.

The boy, Caleb, stood in the middle of a lake. Standing on top of its water with out the slightest effort. He stared down into the waters of the black lake with his deep eyes. At first you could only see the reflection of the sky that was in turmoil.

The sky was filled with black clouds that blocked out the light. They poured rain and flashed lightning yet the boy was neither wet nor nervous. The black lake did not stir either. Its waters did not lap the shore but sat still in its bed as if waiting for some evil.

Yet the boy was not just staring in the water for no reason. He did not see the violent sky but saw a girl. A girl whose eyes were even deeper then Caleb's. They sucked in all light except there was a small twinkle of playfulness in them. It was in the center of her eyes and look unworldly beautiful.

Caleb stared into her eyes with concern. He looked at her with love. He watched her smile and cry as every memory he had of this girl moved below this lake’s waters. Finally she looked back into his eyes. She reached her hand up as if to grab him. Her eyes were filled with concern as tears flowed down her cheeks. Caleb reached down to her hand touching grabbing it.

There was a flash of lightning from the black sky and the lake, Kaleb, and the girl were gone.

In the darkest point of the night a sleeping girl reached up to the ceiling as tears rolled down her face. It was as if there was someone she loved on the other side of a wall of glass.

Caleb now stood next to the girl in a forest. The trees branches drowned out light while there roots sprawled across the ground clutching and twisting other roots. A strange blue mist hung in the air. Yet even in this setting Caleb was still looking into the eyes of the girl.

"Heather," he breathed.

Heather wasn't looking at Caleb though, she turned to look at a small animal that had appeared in the dead forest. The animal sat there watching them with its large eyes, clicking its claws together.

This animal had a odd look to it. It had huge eyes that glowed a silver and had no pupil. Its fur was a blue that made it blend in with the mist. It had small claws that didn't look menacing. It was half the size of Heather herself and moved liked a cat would on two legs.

Now both Heather and Caleb were looking at it. Then suddenly the creature let out a piercing cry that made them both flinch. When Caleb opened his eyes again, Heather and the strange creature were gone.

Oddly calm, Caleb began to walk through the forest in search of Heather. While he walked the blue mist twisted forming faces of Caleb's memories. They cried, they laughed, they glared, they yelled, they whispered, all silently at Caleb. Their mouths would move but no sound would come. Caleb ran from these disturbing images even though he could recognize them.

But in front of Caleb was a physical form. It wasn't from his memories but it was physical image of his emotions. Its form shattered and reformed into another face. It reached out and touched Caleb's face. There was a flash and the forest was gone.

I know what you said in your last post, but I placed so much effort into writing a critique. I don't want it to go to a waste. ;_; There's a possibility that your revision might be aided by what I have to say here. >_>


First of all—welcome to the youngwriterssociety. Those who post introductions get bonus points, and it helps people understand what you, the writer are made of. Please, go on ahead. Get your name noticed a bit.

This is a rather short work—barely reaching past 200 words. Not that words are a requirement to be a good story (See: Ron Price), but some substance can be obtained by adding in elements which may escape a first reading. Dreams themselves require so much thought are so colorful. It’s necessary that you try to envision the details, and you’ll see them, glorious and artistic. Anyway, let’s get on with the work:

As the owl outside rustled its feathers, the boy inside the large, quiet house shook violently in his bed. Sweat poured down his face as his eyes fluttered. Even if you looked at him you couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on inside [although you may want to bring more focus to the dream qualities, perhaps it would be a good idea to try describing what type of night it was. The season might be a prelude to what goes on within the dream. It was smart to indicate that it is night with the owl. Unnatural sleep?]

The boy, Kaleb, stood in the middle of a lake. Standing on top of its water with out the slightest effort. He stared down into the waters of the black lake with his deep brown-green eyes. [trust me on this one, lose the eye color thing. Visually, we’re supposed to be seeing the colors of the lakewater, so why are you focusing back to Kalab’s eyes?] At first you could only see the reflection of the sky that was in tormoil. [turmoil]

The sky was filled with black clouds that blocked out the light. They poured rain and flashed lightning yet the boy was not [neither] wet nor nervous. The black lake did not move [stir] either. Its waters did not lap the shore but sat still in its bed as heavy as a drowning soul. [personally, I believe this simile is kind of lacking. I know you’re trying to set up the mood with this simile, but there are things that work n its place: rusted anchor, unearthed stone—et cetera]

Yet the boy was not just staring in the water for no reason. He did not see the violent sky but saw a girl. A girl who's [whose] hair was brown and flowed down her shoulders. [you are free to use abstract nouns and descriptions of her movement to make us understand what she looks like, and that the narrative is infatuated with her—just directly saying what she looks like doesn’t work.] Her eyes were even deeper then Kaleb's. [isn’t the lake deeper than his eyes though?] The sucked in all light except there was a small twinkle of playfulness in them. It was in the center of her eyes and look unworldy [forgot the “l”] beautiful.

This is a dream world, so good luck with coming up with strange things to happen. I will not lie when I say that you have challenged yourself into a work that can, in theory, have no real ending.

I liked your piece Kal, though I know that you'll never put any other continuations on here so why bother even reading it?