Ones Left Behind--the scene that changes it all

Everything was dead silent. It was dark outside, a sign of the storm. My only light was a lamp by me. It cast shadows across the room, turning even the most friendly of chairs into a monster waiting to strike.

Mom, Dad, and Raya had gone out to dinner. Melissa never went out anymore, and I had stayed to finish my homework.

I had asked Melissa to turn on the light, but she didn’t move.

Melissa the statute. Melissa the strange statute. Melissa my sister. Melissa. I shook my head and focused harder on my homework.

Melissa started playing faint notes on the piano. Faint but sweet, then stronger, as she seemed to surrender to the passion of the music.

I realized I didn’t know she had ever played the piano. Now that I focused, I remembered memories of Mom yelling at Melissa to practice the piano. The memory seemed more real than the room I was in, and I could almost hear Mom call Melissa’s nickname. “Mels! Time to practice the piano!” Memory Mom called in my head.

Raya’s nickname for Melissa was Lissa, but Mom and I called her Mels.

I yelped as the power went out, yanking me out of memory world, and back to real world.

Melissa suddenly stopped playing the music.

“Glad I didn’t turn on the light?” Melissa asked. I could almost hear a faint smile. A faint Melissa.

I shook my head. A shake she didn’t see. Couldn’t see.

The ptchh! of a match being lit could be heard, and suddenly there was a glow of light. The light danced across Melissa’s features. I could almost see the flame in her green eyes.

Melissa lit a candle. Then she brought it over to me and set it down. The shadows cast by the candle were worse than the lamp. They weren’t steady. They jumped around constantly. The light playing with the shadows.

The chair looked even more monstrous. I shifted back in my seat, away from the hungry chair.

“Hurry up. This candle creeps me out,” Melissa said quietly.

It was creeping me out too. I finished my homework quickly.

The shadows moved. My eyes shot upward. My heart started to pound, before my eyes adjusted and I realized it was Melissa.

Melissa went towards the door. I blew out the candle and calmed my heart.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Out,” Melissa said, in a monotone voice. Using a monosyllable explanation. She never used to do that. And why isn’t monosyllable monosyllable? It just would make more sense if it was.

“Can I go with you?” I asked eagerly. Anywhere but here.

“Dunno if you want to,” Melissa said.

“Course I do,” I said, getting to my feet.

“I don’t want you to come!” Melissa snapped.

I flinched, but quickly protested. “You can’t leave me here.”

“You know what? Come,” Melissa snapped again, going to her car.

I followed after grabbing an umbrella. Melissa didn’t bother with one. The pitter patter of rain was never clearer to me than now.

Melissa’s car was a little haven. The van’s exterior was red. I never understood why she wanted a van, but it was her money.

Melissa was an artist. Seeing her van’s interior, that much was clear.

At the back of her van were a few boxes, and on the back side windows, and the ceiling, there were these amazing drawings, and watercolor paintings. They always brightened up her car. Today, they seemed much less colorful than usual, and a few had fallen off, despite the tape.

Duct tape isn’t as strong as everybody says.

She’d jokingly named the van Fred after Fred Weasley, from Harry Potter. I once asked her why...

She smiled and said, “Just seemed like a Fred to me. A mischievous Fred makes him Fred Weasley.” The sun shone, and she handed me her sunglasses from the top of her head.

“How can a car be mischievous?” I asked, putting the sunglasses on. It helped a lot.

“Oh, it has ways,” Melissa said with a lighthearted laugh.

I wish Melissa stayed that way.

Now I’m sitting in Fred’s passenger seat, and the windshield wipers are going back and forth.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

She stared at the road intently as she drove.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

I settled back against the seat. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

I frowned. Then, we reached the bridge, and all of a sudden Melissa slammed on the brakes.

The seatbelt cut into my chest and I gasped for the air that had been knocked out of my lungs.

Melissa unhooked her seatbelt and got out of the car.

I fumbled to unhook mine, groping for the latch of the door. I stepped out of the car hurriedly.

Melissa was standing at the edge of the bridge, looking below. Rain blurred my vision. I wiped my eyes to get the water out of the way.

I walked over to her and looked over the edge as well. Cars whizzed by below us. Their headlights blinded the deer. And deer we were. Melissa was back in statue mode, looking down.

“You might want to look away,” she said, swinging one of her legs over the edge.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

“You’ll understand. I’m sorry Hope,” Melissa said.

“Mels,” I said quietly, reaching for her arm.

She ruffled my hair with a sad smile, before swinging her other leg over the edge.

“Mels, don’t do this,” I said.

If she even heard me, it was too late. My hand on her arm fell to the ledge as she hurtled to the ground.

I wish I could say a miracle happened, and Melissa grew wings, flying into the air, or that a huge car was under her at just the right time. It didn’t.

I looked away, and threw up. I blinked.

Melissa’s broken body.

I opened my eyes.

Road.

I blinked again.

Broken body.

Road.

Stop it! I screamed to my brain. I wanted to forget the last five minutes. Forget everything. Scratch that. I want to rewind time. To when I discovered she was cutting her wrists. To when I could have told somebody.

To when it wasn’t too late to save her.

((Alright, just wanted to add a few things that are explained before this scene. Raya is the narrator, Hope's, little sister, Melissa Hope's older. That's really all that hasn't been explained here.

Okay, questions I would love to have answered, because these are my focus areas are:

Is the scene intense enough for it's purpose?
How do you feel about the narrator?
How do you feel about Melissa?
Is there any small mistakes I missed?
Anything I can do to make this scene more clear?

But I would love any other kind of advice on how to improve this as well.))

Everything was dead silent

Is there any other kind of silence? A living one, perhaps? Redundant phrasing.

t was dark outside, a sign of the storm

ah, no, its a sign of the night. If you mean to say that is in fact an overcast day, then you should be more clear.

My only light was a lamp by me

Ew, two possessives 'me and my' and the sentence itself is ugly. Try: The only light came from the lamp beside me.

I yelped as the power went out, yanking me [s]out of memory world, and[/s] back into the real world.

We know she was remembering; repetition is unnecessary.

I shook my head. A shake she didn’t see. [s]Couldn’t see[/s].

Stop repeating things! It's really annoying.

The ptchh! of a match being lit could be heard, and suddenly there was a glow of light. The light danced across Melissa’s features. I could almost see the flame in her green eyes.

[s]Melissa lit a candle. Then[/s] She brought the candle over to me and set it down. The shadows cast by the candle were worse than the lamp. They weren’t steady. They jumped around constantly. [s]The light playing with the shadows. [/s]

Stabbity stab stab! You show us what's happening, which is good, but then you tell us the same thing and that's bad. Very annoying. We know from the first paragraph that she lit a candle. Why bother insulting us by telling us all over again? 'Then' is just about the worst way to start any sentence ever. Avoid it like the plague.

Repetition seems to be an annoying habit of yours. As though you believe all your readers suffer from Alzheimer's or something. You showed us the shadows, then with the last sentence you told us of the shadows. Stop it.

Also, where did she come from? Wasn't she playing the piano in another room? The actual placing of the two girls isn't clear enough

Out,” Melissa said, in a monotone [s]voice.[/s]

You said in the beginning that she never went out. Also, monotone implies voice. Repetition. It. Is. Killing. Me.

Using a monosyllable explanation. She never used to do that. And why isn’t monosyllable monosyllable? It just would make more sense if it was.

Cut it. The whole thing. Unnecessary; useless; adds nothing to the story; detracts from the tone; is very. very annoying.

“Dunno if you want to,” Melissa said.

Said like this it reads: Don't know if you want to - which of course, is wrong, because we all know she does indeed want to. She just asked. It should be:

"Dunno. If you want to."

The pitter patter of rain was never clearer to me than now.

Why? Omniscient foreshadowing. Keep it in the present, with the narrator.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

She stared at the road intently as she drove.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

I settled back against the seat. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

Delete it! Ugh. Onomatopoeia is a horrible tool, used by the lazy. I can't think of a worse tool to use for dramatic tension. Which is what you are aiming for, but never reach. Describe the constant grating of the windshield wipers, the splatter of the rain and the way it slices across her nerves like a sharp blade; use description! [Note: I wasn't in a good mood to begin with, but its getting worse. Ah well, I believe in tough love anyway]

[s]Then,[/s]we reached the bridge, and [s]all of a sudden [/s]Melissa slammed on the brakes.

Then? [note, my hatred of that word has only been exacerbated in the last week by seven other YWSers using it repeatedly in their pieces. So you're not alone.]

Also, the action of slamming onto the brakes implies suddenness. You don't need to tell us it is. We can see it.

**

I didn't like this. At all. I think I've made that abundantly clear by now. The description was lacking and repetitive; the characters felt shallow and underdone; the tension was only somewhat apparent and tenuous (done best while in the home with the description of the shadows) and overall, I think you really need to go over this and work on it a lot. I didn't believe any of it.

I didn't believe that a girl with artistic tendencies - who expressed herself in art and music and was quirky and creative would randomly decide to kill herself. I absolutely do not and will not, ever - not for any character - believe that someone who would kill themselves in front of their little sister. It's beyond wrong.

I got very little sense of the narrator, of the Mellisa there was some characterisation with the flashback to the naming of the car and the piano-playing but the characterisation was inconsistent with the actions she took. I got very little sense of the family life, of the dynamics there, of anything really. It was a random, poorly executed, suicide scene. Not story. Scene.

I'm sorry if this came off as way too harsh but hopefully it will motivate you to revise this and to make it better. If you do, please, PM me and I'll come and go over it again. (Hopefully in a better mood)

Cheers

Hey there, Cooper! I'm Sarah and I'm your reviewer for today. I see you've already got your two reviews, making this post legal (:wink:), so I won't have to go over the rules with you.
Onward!

Everything was dead silent.

I think that deadly silent would sound better. Furthermore, this is a bit of a cliched way to start. The first sentence should pull the reader in but as this idea has been done so many times before, it repels me slightly from reading the work.

Opening sentences are probably the trickiest - for me, a least. An opening sentence needs something to fire the imagination of reader. Make the reader want to know what happens next - something that pulls them into the story. Makes them ask questions - who is this, what's happening, what's going to happen? You're not really looking for scene setting or establishing character - that comes later. Dramatic openings should try and put you right in the middle of things.

One of the best opening sentences I know is from George Orwell's book '1984':"it was a bright cold day in April and the clocks were striking 13." There's a great balance to that sentence - the first half seems ordinary and reassuring and then, bang, he hits you with the twist.

It was dark outside, a sign of the storm.

This is too simplistic. Elaborate. Show us why it was dark, show us the building up of the storm.

Melissa started playing faint notes on the piano. Faint but sweet, then stronger, as she seemed to surrender to the passion of the music.

I like the introduction of Melissa. It adds mystery. And this is a lovely sentence. Try to keep the rest of your sentences as beautiful as this one, flesh them out.

I remembered memories of Mom yelling at Melissa to practice the piano.

You remembered memories? Say this out loud to yourself and you'll see it doesn't really make sense.

The memory seemed more real than the room I was in, and I could almost hear Mom call Melissa’s nickname. “Mels! Time to practice the piano!” Memory Mom called in my head.

You don't need the dialogue tag of 'Memory Mum called in my head' because you've already explained that she's talking.

Raya’s nickname for Melissa was Lissa, but Mom and I called her Mels.

You've had waaay too much description on nicknames. It seems irrelevant. Cut it out.

I yelped as the power went out, yanking me out of memory world, and back to real world.

I don't like the repetition of ' out'. Change the first part to, "I yelped as the power went off.'

“Glad I didn’t turn on the light?” Melissa asked. I could almost hear a faint smile. A faint Melissa.

I shook my head. A shake she didn’t see. Couldn’t see.

These two quotes are good, but very similar in structure. This disrupts the flow; you should always vary sentence structure for a piece to read well.

The ptchh! of a match being lit could be heard, and suddenly there was a glow of light. The light danced across Melissa’s features. I could almost see the flame in her green eyes.

Repetition of light.

Melissa lit a candle. Then she brought it over to me and set it down. The shadows cast by the candle were worse than the lamp. They weren’t steady. They jumped around constantly. The light playing with the shadows.

Here would be a good place to insert detail, detail, detail. It's what gives the reader a better visual image. Ellaborate on the surroundings, what the place looked like. Show me.

And why isn’t monosyllable monosyllable? It just would make more sense if it was.

This sentence = rambling. Nix it.

“Can I go with you?” I asked eagerly. Anywhere but here.

I liked this sentence for some reason. It was melancholy without being melodramatic.

“Dunno if you want to,” Melissa said.

Put a fullstop after Dunno so it reads, "Dunno. If you want to," Melissa said.' < This adds effect.

“Course I do,” I said, getting to my feet.

“I don’t want you to come!” Melissa snapped.

I flinched, but quickly protested. “You can’t leave me here.”

“You know what? Come,” Melissa snapped again, going to her car.

This was really clumsy because Melissa kept changing her mind. It was unnerving. Have her really reluctant at first, instead of saying 'If you want to." It makes it clearer.

I followed after grabbing an umbrella. Melissa didn’t bother with one. The pitter patter of rain was never clearer to me than now.

I don't understand the whole 'The pitter patter of rain was never clearer to me than now.' thing'. Nix it. Better safe than sorry.

Duct tape isn’t as strong as everybody says.

I liked this. It had symbolism, and I'm a sucker for meaningful sentences. ^_^

“Oh, it has ways,” Melissa said with a lighthearted laugh.

I liked this dialogue but don't describe the laugh as being lighthearte. It sounds off.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

She stared at the road intently as she drove.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

I settled back against the seat. “Where are we going?” I asked.

Squeak. Squeak. Squeak.

Slam.

I don't like this continous use of onomatopeia. You presumably inserted it to add effect, to make it edgier, to add to the atmosphere. It just makes it sound immature. Just cut it down to one, 'squeak. squeak. slam'. That would work.

Melissa was standing at the edge of the bridge, looking below. Rain blurred my vision. I wiped my eyes to get the water out of the way.

The description is too minimal here. I want you to describe the surroundings, the rain, the weather, the people, the bystanders, the bridge. Show us the emotions of the narrator.

I walked over to her and looked over the edge as well. Cars whizzed by below us. Their headlights blinded the deer. And deer we were. Melissa was back in statue mode, looking down.

I don't understand the whole 'deer' thing.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

I don't think she'd yell. In a situation like this, her breath would be stuck in her voicebox, she'd have a lump in her throat, she'd be frozen. Have her gasp it, or breathe it. Make the speech stuttery. It would be way more effective.

“You’ll understand. I’m sorry Hope,” Melissa said.

Comma after 'sorry'.

“Mels,” I said quietly, reaching for her arm.

Here is where you

should

have the main character get agitated, because she's becoming more and more certain of what's happening. Have her heartbeat speed up and have her grab the arm instead of quietly reaching for it. Show us the fear in her eyes, the tears welling up, the crack in her voice. You could squeeze so much more emotion out of this.

“Mels, don’t do this,” I said.

See above.

Hi there, Cooper! I'm going to contradict Jiggity (sorry, Jig! Don't kill me ) and tell you that I did like this. It definitely wasn't terrible. What you are doing right is the initial idea of the story. I like the way that you suddenly threw us into the action in an almost detached sort of way. It all seemed completely normal, two sisters going out for a drive and then one of them starts climbing off a brige. It happened so quickly and wasn't over dramatic or melodramatic, things that only movies pull off. It wasn't the most eloquently I've seen, but good for a newbie.

Your writing style is far, far too bland, too vague. You have a really big problem with description and details though. It's little details like the pattern of an armchair or how a raindrop fell onto someone's palm , that make a story real. You need a lot more description of the surroundings. You need to show the reader what you are seeing in your head. Your descriptive approach is minimal and due to the nature of this piece, you need a lot more. Also, we have NO idea whatsoever why Melissa decided to kill herself! This is a very big problem with the story. Why would she commit suicide? Maybe this should be extended into chapters, so we get background information on the characters.

Because this is a first person piece, you could have got a lot, lot more emotion out of the main character. Show us how her agitation increases when Melissa starts hooking her leg over the bridge, show us her fear, her sorrow, her dismay, her despair. You also need to show the reader her personality through the first paragraph when she's introduced. That's vital, because if the reader can't empathise with a character, they'll usually put the book down. We haven't really had that much detail on the character's actual personality, and that's my biggest concern. We know nothing about her, she's shallow, we're not identifying with her,


Good luck!

Sarah