Young Writers Society

Okay. This is my first. I wanted to start off with a piece I hold close to my heart. No, this didn't happen to me. But is based off my bestest friend. She's okay now, but she wants to share her story. When I showed her my work, she thought it was amazing... what do you think?

He's drunk again.
And when he's drunk, a monster breaks loose. A monster so terrifying, so strong, so evil.
He swears, he swings, he smashes, he stomps, right up until he's satisfied.
And to me, that seems like forever.
When he's drunk, he needs a release.
And I'm his punching bag.
So here I am, lying in my closet with my shoes poking me every which direction, hiding from the monster.
Being a man over 275 made of pure muscle I already know this isn’t going to be some smack that only stings for a while and goes away after couple of minutes.
It's bad enough when he's sober.
I hear things crashing downstairs. I hear my mother scream. Pots and pans rebound off the walls. Dishes are being thrown as if they are Frisbees.
I lay in my closet and pray; although I know nothing will happen. I figured out God doesn't give a damn about me; otherwise I wouldn't be in this situation.
I wish she wasn't such a fool.
I wish she didn't marry him.
My mother was beautiful and radiant. Before him, people had mistaken her for my older sister.
Before him I wasn't good-looking, but I was certainly better than this.
Over the past few months her curves diminished, her radiance faded, her youth replaced by rapid aging.
Now she's scared to come save me. She sits and watches, rubbing her face where she was smacked, like that was anything compared to my bruises.
All she had was a swollen cheek; I'm close to death.
He usually drags me by the hair and forces me downstairs, throws me against a wall, and starts kicking and punching and spitting.
I hear his footsteps near the staircase.
I start counting the seconds; last time it took him 134 seconds to come and get me. Seventy seconds is the record.
I hear him stomping up the steps. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three.
Now he's jumping over the computer he knocked over a week ago. Thirty, thirty-one.
I feel the ground vibrate as he closes the distance. Forty, forty-one, forty-two.
Light shines on me as my closet is yanked open, my closet doors screeching in protest.
Forty-nine seconds. A new record.

Hello, welcome to YWS!

Firstly, I must say that this was very difficult to read in the format that you put it in. Try to form it more so into paragraphs because a lot of members just skip over good work because they don't like the way it was formatted. An example:

He's drunk again. And when he's drunk, a monster breaks loose. A monster so terrifying, so strong, so evil, even Satan himself cowers in his presence. He swears, he swings, he smashes, he stomps, right up until he's satisfied. And to me, that seems like forever. When he's drunk, he needs a release, and I'm his punching bag.

So here I am, lying in my closet, my shoes poking me every which direction, hiding from the monster until he comes to get me.

**And so on. Otherwise, you have some spelling errors put they're easy to find if you take the time to read through. Remember to capitalize your "i".

**On content I really enjoyed this. Though, even though this story is true, it's been done before and still comes off a little cliche. If you could continue it...and really tell what happens and what comes afterwards and the true feelings and thoughts of the narrator I think this could develop into a great story. But remember, be original. I liked the counting part at the end, it worked really well with the piece. Though, just ending it where you did I felt like I missed out on a big chunck. The ending didn't really seem like an ending if you know what I mean. I would have expected something a little more dramatic or at least more in depth. Look into that. That could be much longer.

PM me if you have any questions or need help with anything!
Happy editing!
~Rieda

Swell.

I second the suggestion to separate it out into different paragraphs. As is, it is rather hard to read.

This was kind of short, yet powerful. I especially liked the counting at the end.

I feel bad for your friend. I'm glad that she is better now. I'm holding her in my hopes and prayers.

Nice writing.

*thumbs up*

~GryphonFledgling

At first glance, this looks like a poem. Right off the bat, you can do one of two things: either take away some description and make it a poem, or flesh it out and make it a story. Keeping these choices in mind, I go into the crit:

Livinginfantasy wrote:He's drunk again.
And when he's drunk, a monster breaks loose. A monster so terrifying, so strong, so evil, even Satan himself cowers in his presence.
He swears, he swings, he smashes, he stomps, right up until he's satisfied.
And to me, that seems like forever.
When he's drunk, he needs a release.
And I'm his punching bag.

This section is very poetic, which makes me think that with a little work, this could be a very powerful poem.

Being a 275+ pound man made of pure muscle, you already know this isn't going to be some smack that only stings for a while and goes away after a couple of minutes.

Instead of "275+ pound man", I would rephrase this as "Being a man over 275 pounds". Also, never include the reader into the story unless you're writing a "choose-your-own-adventure" story. That particular section can be reworked as "I already know...".

I lay in my closet and prey...

This particular "prey" means to be low on the food chain. I think you meant "pray".

All she had was a swollen cheek; I'm close to being murdered.

To make this more powerful, I'd say "She had a swollen cheek; I'm close to death". To make a piece like this that has the potential to be really powerful, word choice is everything.

He drags me by the hair and forces me downstairs, throws me against a wall, and starts kicking and punching and spitting, whatever frees of him of his frustration at the moment.

You can get rid of "at the moment".

I hear his footsteps near the staircase.
I start counting the seconds; last time it him 134 to came and get me. Seventy's the record.

"last time it took him 134 seconds to come and get me. Seventy seconds is the record."

I hear him stomping up the steps. Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three.
Now he's jumping over the computer he knocked over a week ago. Thirty, thirty-one.
I feel the ground vibrate as he closes the distance. Forty, forty-one, forty-two.
Light shines on me as my closet is yanked open, screeching in protest.
Forty-nine seconds. A new record.

"Screeching" is not the best word here. Drunken, angry men don't screech; they bellow, holler, yell, boom, etc, but they never screech.


Overall, great job. I think this would be more powerful as a poem rather than a story. It just needs to me reworked, making sure you have more powerful word choice, and are less conversational in your delivery. Keep writing, and I'm sure you'll blossom beyond belief.

This probably belongs in the Narrative Poetry section. It was interesting. It seemed realistic, which I liked.

Ok, your format was some different but I understand you.
Second, I enjoyed your writing because I feel your character front of me!
Because your figurative language, or descriptive words, hooked me.
I wish to read more about your story.

Wow, that was really well but together. Its really sad, thought. Some people really have to go through that stuff. I feel sorry for them. Anywho, you did an excelent job! I thought the format was ok.

This was captivating.It also painted a vivid picture in my mind, which I like.
I think this deserves a gold star * puts gold star*
I love your style of writing, keep it up!

~inkling

I liked the end bit with the counting down, that gave it a rhythm which was good to read.
I definetly think yuo should continue it.

That is so sad that those true things happen to good people. At the very end i started bawling and I couldn't stop. I love the story, but I don't love that is was true.

God, poor girl.
Anyway, I have to say that I really loved the format you put this in. It's different, but I thought it was easy to read, and made it even more interesting. It gave it a nice, quick rhythm that suits a piece as short as this very well.

I have a problem with one sentence. The bit where you say that Satan himself would cover from him--- that part just seemed a bit cliche and over-worked.

Please, please please don't change the ending. It was brilliant and not anticlimactic at all. Not knowing what happens to her leaves you feeling very helpless, which is a great effect considering the subject of this piece.

Reading this really concerns me for your friend, so you know you've done a very good job. Even though this didn't happen to you you are very honest and sound like you really know what you're talking about-- you must know her well.

So anyway-- Don't change the ending and in my opinion, don't change the structure either. It made the effect even stronger for me-- a nice one-two punch from line to line.
Great work!

Wow. I'm so glad your friend is better. This is rough (meaning emotional, not choppy.). Good job, I really liked this!

I liked how the main character new exactly how long it took the step-father to get to her on various occasions. I also liked the description of how her mother wouldn't save her, even though she was getting hit much harder than the mother was.

The format seems more to me like a poem than a story. However, I think the format was easy to understand and would work well either as a poem or story.

Being a over 275 pounds made of pure muscle

I think you may have forgotten a word here. It would work fine if you said 'a man over', but my personal preference would be to leave out the 'a' and say 'Being over'. Also the 'made' kind of throws off the rhthym for me; it seems an unnecessary word.

My mother was beautiful and radiant. Before him people had mistaken her for my older sister.
Before him I wasn't good-looking, but I was certainly better than this.
Over the past few months her curves diminished, her radiance faded, her youth replaced by rapid aging.

I was a bit confused because you started talking about the mother's appearance, split to the girl's, and then back to the mother. It almost seems as if 'you' are referring to 'yourself' as 'her' because you said 'my mother,' 'I', and then 'her' without really specifying. If you switched around the first two sentence's order, it would be fine.

All in all, it was a good piece and caught my attention from the start.

Whoa. Intense ! Well written, just take care that the formatting isn't too cramped up, makes it hard to read.
I like it though!

I'm sorry your friend went through this... it's way horrible.

Read over your story and say it aloud to yourself, it's a perfect way of making sure sentences are logical and work.

Good job!
Xxx Do