Justice

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This is a little piece of writing that I came up with a while ago. Used to be a part of my story "The Darkness Within" but now it isn't anymore because I came up with a different ending for that.

Might use it in another story, but I'm curious to see what you think of it, first :D

XxxDo

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“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

He stopped in his tracks, his gaze darting nervously from side to side in a frantic search for the source of the confidently spoken words. They settled on the face of the teenage girl that stood in the doorway, then narrowed in distrust. He’d immediately recognized the voice; just not the newfound resilience it was alight with. Clenching his jaw, the muscle in his cheek flexing, he appeared to asses her; contemplating his options. He knew her too well to let such a snide, overconfident comment be disregarded without any further reflection. After all, it was unprecedented that she spoke to him without a hint of fear in her voice and composure.

The fact that it was the first time that she ever managed this spoke volumes about his current situation; and planted a seed of concern in the back of his mind. He could tell that there was a reason, that something had been the cause of the change. Something that may well be a threat to him.
Finally, he spoke, his tone cold and sarcastic.

“Since when do you have the courage to so much as look me in the eye?”

She grimaced at his words, forcing her gaze to meet his with quiet, fearless self-assurance to establish the fact that the tables were, at last, turning in her favour.

Snidely, she spoke. “Since it dawned on me, Michael, that you’re not worthy of the energy I spent fearing you. You don’t scare me anymore. You don’t control me anymore. You’re fighting a losing battle against an enemy who will keep getting stronger. I’m through with the fear.”

He straightened up, his palms seeking the edge of the countertop behind him. He leaned back against it, a malicious sneer etched in his pasty face. His body language radiated hostility; and he was clearly convinced that he would never cease to hold the position of authority he’d thrived in for the better part of two years.

We’ll see about that, Michael, Jess thought, watching him put on a show that would have, in any other situation, intimidated her. We’ll see how much power you’ve got left now that I’ve taken things into my own hands. You’ll come to recognize my resilience.

She could see the thoughts churning through his mind as he scrutinized her with his intensely grey eyes. He was searching for a hint of deceit behind her words, carefully calculating what best to say next. She’d seen him seek for the right words before – countless times – as he was always searching for the most ominous, brutal ways to talk to her. His supremacy was constructed on a solid platform of intimidation and fear, and he’d continuously ensured that both these crucial factors remained present.

He had succeeded; until today.

“Don’t for a second think you scare me.” Jess spoke slowly, taking a step towards him, out of the protective enclosure of the doorway. Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips, then progressed into a clown-like smile.

“Yeah?” He sneered, reaching out towards the block of knives that stood to his right. “What’s to say, Jess, that I won’t just take a knife and kill you? Just like I killed your dim-witted father?”

“The fact that, Michael, you’re maniacal, but not stupid.” She spoke meticulously, her steady tone reflecting the unusual clearness of her thoughts. “Plus… people don’t tend to act out when they’ve got guns aimed at their head.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He stopped mid-reach, his eyes finding hers again.

“Just saying… it’s in your own best interests to remain as motionless and unthreatening as possible. You haven’t a clue how far beyond your control this situation is.” She held his gaze, a warm sensation of triumph filling up the hollow space inside her heart where her fear for him had once resided.

Watching him grow increasingly unsure of himself, she caught herself smiling faintly. You may be crazy, Michael, but I knew I exactly how you’d react when I came up with this idea. Now that you see that I am no longer afraid, it’s dawning on you that you’re no longer in control of the situation. You’re losing. You’re experiencing something new; something you visibly don’t appreciate...

“You’re lying. You vindictive little bitch.” He said, holding his position stiffly; one outstretched hand resting on the wooden block of knives.

“Am I?”

“Fuck you.” He grimaced, his expression cynical; though simultaneously anxious. “Shut up, Jess. I think you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with; you should know that I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”

“You don’t scare me.”

“You’re in for it, now, Jess. Trust me; you’re going to wish that I’d grant you the relief of dying once I’m done with you.”

“Yea… you know what? I don’t think so, Michael.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again after a few seconds, before sliding the largest of the knives from the block with the blood-curdling sound of metal scraping wood. His expression was the one she’d seen so many times before, whenever he laid hands on her. It was the mask of mindless cruelty - the human representation of a monster.

“Not a single step closer, Michael.”

“Are you on drugs, Jess?” He sneered, the knife dangling loosely from his hand. “Is this a hallucinogenic speaking, or did you have a personality change while you survived on the streets?”

“I never lived on the streets. I moved in with Jason the first night, already. See; that’s what sets us apart the most, Michael. I’ve got friends. You’ve got subordinates. And in the long run, it’s the
friendships that will make or break you.”

“Well, well.” Snide. “I don’t see your friends standing beside you now, do I? You’re alone, Jess. Face it.”

“You fucking bastard.” She said. “I don’t know who the fuck you thought you were; coming into my home, taking my dad’s place. You’re nothing to me. You’re just a lowlife, criminal bastard with an unhealthy obsession with authority and violence.”

“You shouldn’t have fucking said that.” He started towards her, but she shook her head curtly and raised a single hand, her palm turned towards him to let him know he should keep his distance.

“Lynn.” She stated the name casually, knowing that it was enough. Watching her stepfather’s last strands of confidence slip away, she felt amazing. He knew exactly what she meant; he’d met the detective once before, after all, and knew back then that he’d met a woman who truly didn’t fear him.

A split second later the room filled with cops; their guns drawn and aimed at Michael. Lynn sidestepped in front of Jess, then glanced back at her over her shoulder with a tinge of concern lining her brown eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Jess smiled – sincerely - for the first time in ages as she watched Michael drop the knife and raise his hands above his head in defeat. “Yeah… I’m great.”




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"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
I love that starting sentence. It throws us into the story and immediately makes us intrigued as to what the character has not to do and why.

Is asses not spelt assess?

"Since when did you have the courage to so much as look me in the eye?"
I love the parts where your characters speak. They're so enthralling.

Sorry I don't have enough time to do the whole thing but so far it's really good! You've got great description and I especially love the speech in your story. You should definetly put it into another story. The characters are captivating and the fact that you have left the reader to interpret their own meaning of what is going on at the start makes it even more amazing. (by this I mean you haven't explained what is going on; you've dropped the readers into a story which they have no knowledge of.)

Well done :)
for what are we without words and stories?




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“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

Like lostindreamland said, great opener. I'm immediately hooked.
Amusement tugged at the corners of his lips, then progressed into a clown-like smile.

I like this part. Very creepy with the clown thing.
You may be crazy, Michael, but I knew I exactly how you’d react when I came up with this idea.

Get rid of the "I" after "knew".
“You’re lying. You vindictive little bitch.”

You need a comma instead of a period.
“Well, well.” Snide. “I don’t see your

What do you mean be "Snide"?

This was great. I loved your descriptions, and how they painted a perfect picture. I felt nervous for Jess and the situation, and even though this is just an excerpt from your story, I didn't feel like I wasn't informed of the situation. It worked well, and I'm glad to have read it. Keep up the good work.
Trying to get to heaven without Jesus is like climbing to the summit of Mount Everest naked. You die before it happens.




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Xxxdo,

I’m going to be honest.

I couldn’t even comprehend what the heck was happening in the first half of the story. You embellish this piece with so much unneeded detail and words that it really bogs the whole thing down. This piece is supposed to be suspenseful. The audience will lose that suspense if they are stumbling over large chunks of solid text.

This, in my opinion, should happen very quickly. After all, it is just dialog and thoughts, if you cut out the unneeded sections. And it’s very suspenseful dialog too. That’s what you need to focus on. You are relying on detail and these big words to make you seem like a professional artist. I’ve tried to do it too, but it doesn’t work. If the readers can’t understand what’s going on, you’ve got a major problem to fix.

I’ve attached a line-by-line review in the attachment below. It’s not that helpful, really. Just a couple of edits. That’s all.

Anyway. I think you need some more personality in the dialogs. They both sound strikingly similar. I couldn’t tell you who was saying what. You need to make everyone have their own voice. Take your favorite novel, for instance. Not all of the characters sound the same. We need to be able to tell who is talking without reading the “Jess said” and “Michael said”.

I think that’s your main problem here.

It was a good story. Just get rid of some of that fat hanging over this story and it’ll be good.

-Jared
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Just write -- the rest of life will follow.

Would love help on this.



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