Angels Really Do Exsist

So, this is a story I got inspired to write last night. I was remebering a poem I wrote not too long ago and thought that it would be better made into a story. Please, if you see any mistakes or errors, let me know! I think this is a novel I will continue to write! Please critique! i love you all! Mwuah!


Chapter 1 part 1
“Hey Sandi, hand me another.” I slurred, as I reached my hand out to her. She thrust another beer into my hands and I quickly gulped it down. The cool, pungent liquid slid down my throat.

Music blared through giant speakers set in the corner of the room. High school students were sprawled on couches, floors, and table tops. The ones that weren’t high, sat on chairs, staring into space.

I was one of the few that hadn’t been wasted yet. I could feel myself getting there, but I was still sober enough. My friends, Sandi and Michael, were making out next to me, groaning and moaning. I scooted farther away from them.

I slunk down from my chair and headed toward the bathroom. My stomach churned at the movement, but I plundered on.

I twisted the doorknob open and stepped inside.

The bathroom smelled of vomit and something extremely sweet. I knew that scent and my mouth watered. Someone was lucky enough to have some dope with them.

I hobbled to the rusty counter and stared at my reflection. Long, wavy brown hair fell into my pale face. My cheekbones were sunken in a little and my eyes had bags under them. The little sleep I had gotten over the past few days had taken its toll on me.

I brushed some bangs back from my face with a chipped nail polish hand. My green eyes stared back at me looking for some hope. I had none.

I was a sad case. My boyfriend had just broke up with me, my father left town to do who knows what, I was left at home with nothing to eat, and a close friend of mine had died.

Holly. Tears sprung to my eyes. Why did she have to die? She was the only one that understood me, that cared for me.

[Flashback]
“Dad, please don’t.”

“Why should you give a shit? It’s not your life!” He yelled at me.

“But, but…I need money.” I pleaded.

“What, to go buy more drugs for yourself? To fucking party all day long? No, I don’t think so!”

“No, Dad! I need it for food! You can’t fucking feed me yourself, but I will! I need money!”

“I don’t give a damn. I’m leaving today and you’re not going to make a fucking scene! You hear me!” His hand came down hard on my face.

“Dad…” I sobbed. But he was already up the stairs.

“Hey, Marie! You home?!” Holly yelled as she knocked on the door.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my long sleeve shirt and jumped up from the floor.

I flung open the door and stared at my friend.

“What happened?” She whispered, as she slung her arm around my shoulder.

We walked into the living room and sat down on the 80’s styled couch. Her tan hand touched my face and I winced. “Sorry.”

I looked down at my hands. “What happened?” She asked again.

“I…I needed some money. For food…and…” I was suddenly cut off.

“Marie!” I shuddered at my dad’s voice. It was dripping with pure hatred.

He thundered down the stairs and stepped in front of Holly and me. He glanced at Holly and then glared at me.

“I see you were going to tell your friend about what I did.” My eyes widened in horror.

“Well, go ahead and tell her! I’m sure she cares more about you than me!”

I turned my horror stricken face towards Holly.

“Leave. Leave now. He’s going to do something horrible. I just know it.” I whispered as quietly as I could.

She looked at me then at my father.

“No. I’m not leaving you. Let’s try to talk with your dad.” She said.

“This doesn’t sound like you’re telling her what I did to you!” My dad hollered.

“Why are you here?!” He screamed at Holly.

“I came to see my friend.” She said firmly.

“You came to see your friend…Your friend! Ha, this must be a joke. Marie has no friends. She’s a loser and a bitch. Why don’t you get out of here now?!”

“No.” She placed an arm around my waist and looked at my father with hatred.

“No one tells me no!” My father raged as he yanked Holly’s arm.

“Leave now bitch or I’ll make you leave!” He screeched in her ear.

“No!” She sobbed.

“Holly! Please!” I screamed. She looked at me and her eyes conveyed that she was staying, that she was standing up for her friend and wasn’t going to let her die.

“No.” I whispered.

My father’s hand crashed against the side of her head. He flung her across the room and stalked after her.

Holly made no noise as he rained punches on her chest and face.

‘No, no, no.’ I kept thinking over and over. This wasn’t supposed to happen to my only true friend.

I got up and grabbed and lamp that was nearby. I slunk behind my father and crashed it down on his back.

Before I knew what happened, I was knocked unconscious.

I didn’t know how long I lay there. I could smell the blood and taste it on my lips.

I slowly opened my eyes and took in the scene before me.

The whole living room was a mess. Blood was splattered on the walls, carpet, and furniture. Objects lay in ruins everywhere and glass littered the ground.

I scanned the room for Holly and what I saw made my heart clench.

“No! No, no, no…” I crawled over to her crumpled form. I took her cold hand in mine and held it to my chest.

“No!” I cried. She couldn’t be dead. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was the one that should be in her place.

“No…”

[End flashback]

Before I give a crit, YWS does ask that you keep your review:submission ratio at 2:1, that way more people will like you and you will get better reviews.

writ3rindisguis3 wrote:“Hey Sandi, hand me another.”< comma before speech marks, if you continue for the character describe how they said it (e.g., he said, he muttered) I slurred, as I reached my hand out to her. She thrust another beer into my hands and I quickly gulped it down. The cool, pungent liquid slid down my throat.

Music blared through giant speakers set in the corner of the room. High school students were sprawled on couches, floors, and table tops. The ones that weren’t [s]high[/s] know need to repeat yourself, sat on chairs, staring into space.

I was one of the few that hadn’t been wasted yet. I could feel myself getting there, but I was still sober enough. My friends, Sandi and Michael, were making out next to me, groaning and moaning. I scooted [s]farther [/s]This is not needed, it makes the sentence seem more awkwardaway from them.

I slunked < tense confusion down from my chair and headed toward the bathroom. My stomach churned at the movement, but I plundered on.

I twisted the doorknob [s]open [/s]When you open the door, the doorknob doesn't open, the door does.and stepped inside.

The bathroom smelled of vomit and something extremely sweet. I knew that scent and my mouth watered. Someone was lucky enough to have some dope with them.

I hobbled to the rusty counter and stared at my reflection. Long, wavy brown hair fell into my pale face. My cheekbones were sunken in a little and my eyes had bags under them. The little sleep I had gotten over the past few days had taken its toll on me. < With this paragraph, I still can't picture the character. He may have bags under his eyes, but you still haven't explained them (i.e., what colour?)

I brushed some bangs back from my face with a chipped nail polish hand. My green eyes < better stared back at me looking for some hope. I had none.

I was a sad case. My boyfriend had just broke up with me, my father left town to do who knows what, I was left at home with nothing to eat, and a close friend of mine had died.

Holly. Tears sprung to my eyes. Why did she have to die? She was the only one that understood me, that cared for me.

[Flashback] < No! No! No! If you want to do a flashback, indicate it with italics, or a scene break "#"
“Dad, please don’t.”

“Why should you give a shit? It’s not your life!” He < lowercase 'H' yelled at me.

“But, but…I need money. < comma, as previously stated.” I pleaded.

“What, to go buy more drugs for yourself? To fucking party all day long? No, I don’t think so!”

“No, Dad! I need it for food! You can’t fucking feed me yourself, but I will < I didn't understand this part.! I need money!”

“I don’t give a damn. I’m leaving today and you’re not going to make a fucking scene! You hear me!” His hand came down hard on my face.

“Dad…” I sobbed. But he was already up the stairs.

“Hey, Marie! You home?[s]![/s]” Holly yelled as she knocked on the door.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my [s]long[/s] < not needed sleeve shirt and jumped up from the floor.

I flung open the door and stared at my friend.

“What happened?” She < lowercase 'S' whispered, as she slung her arm around my shoulder.

We walked into the living room and sat down on the 80’s styled couch. Her tan hand touched my face and I winced. “Sorry.”

I looked down at my hands. “What happened?” She < lowercase 'S', I won't repeat it any more asked again.

“I…I needed some money. For food…and…” I was suddenly cut off.

“Marie!” I shuddered at my dad’s voice. It was dripping with pure hatred.

He thundered down the stairs and stepped in front of Holly and me. He glanced at Holly and then glared at me.

“I see you were going to tell your friend about what I did.” My eyes widened in horror.

“Well, go ahead and tell her! I’m sure she cares more about you than me!”

I turned my horror stricken face towards Holly.

“Leave. Leave now. He’s going to do something horrible. I just know it.” I whispered as quietly as I could.

She looked at me then at my father.

“No. I’m not leaving you. Let’s try to talk with your dad.” She said.

“This doesn’t sound like you’re telling her what I did to you!” My dad hollered.

“Why are you here?[s]![/s]” He screamed at Holly.

“I came to see my friend.” She said firmly.

“You came to see your friend…Your friend! Ha, this must be a joke. Marie has no friends. She’s a loser and a bitch. Why don’t you get out of here now?!”

“No.” She placed an arm around my waist and looked at my father with hatred.

“No one tells me no!” My father raged as he yanked Holly’s arm.

“Leave now bitch or I’ll make you leave!” He screeched in her ear.

“No!” She sobbed.

“Holly! Please!” I screamed. She looked at me and her eyes conveyed that she was staying, that she was standing up for her friend and wasn’t going to let her die.

“No.” I whispered.

My father’s hand crashed against the side of her head. He flung her across the room and stalked after her.

Holly made no noise as he rained punches on her chest and face.

‘No, no, no.’ I kept thinking over and over. This wasn’t supposed to happen to my only true friend.

I got up and grabbed and lamp that was nearby. I slunk behind my father and crashed it down on his back.

Before I knew what happened, I was knocked unconscious.

I didn’t know how long I lay there. I could smell the blood and taste it on my lips.

I slowly opened my eyes and took in the scene before me.

The whole living room was a mess. Blood was splattered on the walls, carpet, and furniture. Objects lay in ruins everywhere and glass littered the ground.

I scanned the room for Holly and what I saw made my heart clench.

“No! No, no, no…” I crawled over to her crumpled form. I took her cold hand in mine and held it to my chest.

“No!” I cried. She couldn’t be dead. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was the one that should be in her place.

“No…”

[End flashback]

Those grammar issues however are in fact irrelvant the actual story.

Alright, I was very confused by that. The flashback part confused me the most - I didn't know what was going on. You must make these things clearer, I didn't know what everyone was talking about, and from a reader's POV, bad, meaning my interest was lost during the flashback. Your descriptions were spot on though, I enjoyed them, especially at the start.

For me, your characters weren't real enough. If my friend had just been killed, I would terrified, angry, horrified, and I felt these emotions weren't portrayed here. Work on character development - for the most part, I didn't care about you characters, as in some parts swearing was often used as a substitute for portraying anger, for example.

Good luck, keep writing!
Mark

edit: I tried to cut out the similarities in my review from the one above so you wouldn't go nuts and hunt me down, but I left some in there because I elaborate on some more tangental points relating to the correction or suggestion.

“Hey Sandi, hand me another.” I slurred, as I reached my hand out to her. She thrust another beer into my hands and I quickly gulped it down. The cool, pungent liquid slid down my throat.

Try to cut back on the repetition of the words "hand" and "down."

Kudos for the use of "pungent." I really like how it complements the supposedly positve nature of "cool" with a more edgy nature. Perfect for describing beer.

High school students were sprawled on couches, floors, and table tops. The ones that weren’t high, sat on chairs, staring into space.

Perhaps you should change "weren't high" to "weren't stoned" or something else of the nature to avoid repetition (regardless of what context the word is being used).

I was one of the few that hadn’t been wasted yet.

Change to "become."

I could feel myself getting there, but I was still sober enough.

This leaves the reader asking, "sober enough for what?"

I slunk down from my chair and headed toward the bathroom.

You're starting a lot of consecutive sentences with "I." Try putting in transition words or even fragments of thoughts that are running through the protagonist's mind to break up the action a bit.

The little sleep I had gotten over the past few days had taken its toll on me.

Nice sentence--it sums up the entire paragraph nicely and with satisfying finality.

I brushed some bangs back from my face with a chipped nail polish hand.

The bold segment sounds really helter-skelter, perhaps because "hand" should be replaced by "finger." Personally, I think it would sound better if you took out all the adjectives proceeding hand and put one very effective one in their place such as "bony."

My green eyes stared back at me looking for some hope. I had none.

This part incites empathy from the reader--we've all been in this situation. Good job.

Holly. Tears sprung to my eyes. Why did she have to die? She was the only one that understood me, that cared for me.

This sentence really destroys the flow of the protagonist's reminiscence of Holly. It seems very out of place in my opinion and should be moved either before or after the paragraph?

Note about the "flashback" idea: If you're going to write a novel, actually writing out "[Flashback]" is really cheesy and makes your writing look very immature. To work around this, read this page: http://www.writing-life.com/fiction/flashbacks.html

I'm not going go into a very detailed critique of your flashback sequence because you might decide to change it into a different format, but still, I love the characterization of each character during it. I suggest you add more characterization to the beginning of this chapter before the protagonist walks into the restroom because it's the beginning that's really suppose to answer the question "Okay, so why should I, the reader, care about this person or this story?" Characterization and glimpses into the protagonist's thoughts not only utilize the first-person point of view to it's full extent but involve the reader the character's story. So far, I don't really feel involved until the flashback sequence and a bit during the moments leading up to it.

Thank you for posting though, and I wish you the best of luck with this. Sorry I couldn't be of more help. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.

Good luck!

The two critiques above mine cover most of the little writing flaws and slip-ups.
The whole "looking in the mirror" thing is pretty cliche and used to put an overload of physical descriptors in one spot. I think it's important that we know she has bags under her eyes, but you don't need to say immediately after that that she had been getting very little sleep. We already know that from your description. Other than that, it's your choice whether or not to include things like having brown hair and green eyes--personally, I would leave it out. It isn't important to the plot. If you do, space out the information a whole lot more.
The description after the MC wakes up and sees the room is good. It makes me want to throw up and strangle the MC's father. (as it should)
As with the other responders, the argument going on somewhat confused me. I felt the mood, the feeling which was very intense, but I was confused during a few lines of the dialogue.
Anyway, this piece was very powerful and I think you really conveyed the mood well. You made me enraged that her father killed her friend.

I loved the plot!!! Hurrah, hurrah!!!!! So cute! There were a few things that sounded wrong, like

I brushed some bangs back from my face with a chipped nail polish hand.

I would suggest, "I brushed my bangs back with my hand. I hadn't bothered to touch up the polish, and my nails looked sadly neglected." It covers more word count if you want to make this a novel.

Then there is something I wanted to comment on that Aedomir said.

Music blared through giant speakers set in the corner of the room. High school students were sprawled on couches, floors, and table tops. The ones that weren’t high know need to repeat yourself, sat on chairs, staring into space.

writ3rindisguis3, I think, meant, by "high school students", students that go to high school. And in "the ones that weren't high", it meant drug-high. Just wanted to clear that, if it's true. Oh, by the way, Aedomir, it should be "No need to repeat yourself".

writ3rindisguis3, all together, it was GREAT!

Congrats on a story well written!!

WOOT! WOOT!

Lily OUT!

I liked it so far, but it seems to me that the MC is pretty cool with her friend being dead and her father having done the deed. I would think that she would have freaked out and called the police. Also, I was inclined to really feel sorry for her or her friend or be afraid of her dad. I really didn't get to know them. So my emotions weren't really engaged. Why is her father so violent? Maybe take us back a bit further so we can get to know her and her friend so that when her friend is killed, we are all upset. It's bad enough right now, but think how bad it will be when we are all attached.

What was the argument about? What was the situation with the money? I'm a bit confused. Was the father too poor to feed her and she was working for money? And then he took it away? I was seriously confused then.

I second GML in naysaying the mirror description scene: they are a major no-no. Work around it. Is it all that important that we know what the character looks like? You can mention it in other ways. For instance: "As I lifted the beer bottle again for another swig, my brown hair fell into my eyes in clumps. I needed a shower badly. Brushing the hairs aside, I felt the bags under my eyes. Sleep would be welcome also."

You don't have to use that example, but can you see what I mean? The worst thing that first person narration ever spawned was the plague of mirror-description. But there are ways around it, I promise.

Anyway, it ended kind of quickly after the flashback. I want to know what else happened afterward: what her dad did and what she did. Has her life continued more or less normally or did she move out? What happened!? Write more!

*thumbs up*

~GryphonFledgling

Okay first off: Wouldn't Marie have been traumatized or is the flash back going back further or not? If not then she should be at least a little traumatized.

And and intro is best. I have no idea who Maria really is and I don't really care for her that much either. What was her child life like? What happened or where is her mother? Does she have pets? Simple things you know. Every little detail helps.

The story line is okay. It seams a little shaky but hey, wouldn't this be the new beginning of a fine story. Sorry, I'm a little tired tonight so i felt like a hard reviewer today.

I agree with Ambercoultis about the details of the protagonist's life. To add on, I'd like to suggest that keeping the answers to those questions in mind will definitely contribute to her characterization. Of course, that's not to say you should beef up every paragraph with anecdotes. Instead, put yourself in the character's shoes when writing about her and have her act/speak in such a way that we, the readers, can infer her background story fairly accurately. Basically, you'll end up using what you know about your character and clearly conveying that to the reader. Just a suggestion though; there may be better methods out there, . I also suggest filling out a character sheet such as this topic29422.html.

The same concept can be applied to all characters if you so wish.

Anyway, once again, best of luck!!

i think it really good but you do need more information on her family. were is her mom? why she didn't call the police when she could? what happen with the murder of her friend? Who was blamed. But thats a good start; i love it cant wait to read more
frenchy