One Year On.

One Year On

Sometimes I can’t remember when I stopped crying myself to sleep at night. I can’t remember when I started listening to the radio again, or when it no longer hurt to mention your name. That scares me.

After that night, things went from normal, to black, to grey. Gradually, the grey passed but everything came back in Technicolour – there, how it was, but with a fake tinge to it. Not quite how it originally was.

I started to go about my days as normal again – get up, dress, go to work, come home again. The routine of it all seemed to help – although I’m not sure whether being a zombie is better than feeling the pain.

People stopped asking how I was. Stopped giving me the pity looks when they thought I wasn’t watching. I didn’t return the calls after a while, didn’t accept the coffee morning invites or even the shoulder to lean on. I never bounced back like people thought I would – my smile was frozen, my eyes glazed. I lost our few friends. After all, who wants to be friends with a mourner?

I walked down Brewsberry Avenue yesterday for the first time in a year. I stopped by the last house and felt my way along the wall. You’d think no time had passed looking at your inscription – it looks as fresh now as the day you carved it. ‘A + W 2007’ it reads. Who knew that 2007 would be where we ended?

Sometimes, when the Technicolour shifts and reveals the grey underneath, I think I can hear the screech of brakes on asphalt, feel the glass cutting into the palms of my hands.

Sometimes, I can see you lying there, blood across your face, the sirens reflecting off your unnaturally white skin.

And it’s then that I wish I had gone too.

Hi Alainna! I totally owe you this critique, after your endless perservering with Broken. Erjo, here I am.

Nit-picks ^_^

Quote : After that night, things went from normal, to black, to grey. Gradually, the grey passed but everything came back in Technicolour – there, how it was, but with a fake tinge to it. Not quite how it originally was.

What I have formatted in bold - "there" and "Not quite how it originally was" seems a bit redundant after the amazing analogy you've given us in this sentence. It sort of loses the meaning of the metaphors through repetition. I would suggest you nix them. ^_^

I lost our few friends.

Do you mean 'our' or 'mine?'


Sarah Liked. ^_^

Sometimes I can’t remember when I stopped crying myself to sleep at night.

I like this first line. It's poignant and not over-used.

After all, who wants to be friends with a mourner?

This line particularly stood out to me; it was so perceptive and true. As well as being very significant to this story. Anyway, just thought I'd tell you. [/ramble]

Sometimes, when the Technicolour shifts and reveals the grey underneath, I think I can hear the screech of brakes on asphalt, feel the glass cutting into the palms of my hands.

I like the repetition of the Technicolour analogy. I also like how you've given us more details to the storyline in a very short space of time with such few details - something I particularly need to work on in my own writing. ^_^

And it’s then that I wish I had gone too.

This line hit me with its poignancy, it really did. Throughout the piece, up till now it's been slightly detatched and melancholy, building up to this tragic, dramatic statement which bangs the reader straight in the face. Very well done.

I love this, Alainna! You must continue it! Sorry for the icky review.

Sarah
xxx

This was really great. I can't believe this is my first time reading your work. I couldn't pick up on any grammar or spelling errors.

Gradually, the grey passed but everything came back in Technicolour – there, how it was, but with a fake tinge to it.

This sentence is good in the beginning but at the end it confused me. '-there, how it was, but with a fake tinge to it.' This just sounds weird. I think you could make it into another sentence and reword it.

How about this:
It was there, but with a fake tinge to it.

I think this still makes sense with what you're implying. I hope I helped.

-Moony

Wow, this was great writing. I loved how you refered to it as black and white and technicolor. I could find any grammar mistakes. When I was reading I was totally into it. I want to keep reading on. Please let me know when you get more posted.

I really loved this.
I thought it was going to be some break up story but it's soooo much better than what I had expected!
The grammer, puntuation, errors etc. have been pointed outm so I'm not going to go into that **phew**

I loved the way you described it in a way most people can relate to: it's realistic to how others would react to someone else's loss, and it's realistic to how the person has reacted too.
It's beautiful and I'd love to read more. Tell me when you do!
x

Since others have said everything else including what I'm about to say, I guess I'm just backing up their statements, but... I loved it. The whole suspense, the sort of wonder: did they break up? and then suddenly we see how he died. Priceless. The poetic sort of phrasing you use is really amazing. Keep writing on this one!
Cheers!
--Voxina