Witch

I have been writing ever since i can remember, and a few months ago i realised how badly i really wanted to write a novel, so i started writing a novel for teens upwards
This novel is about fantasy, magic, romance and friendship, i really hope you enjoy it. Here is chapter 1 and chapter 2:

Witch
Chapter 1
Witchcraft

Annabelle’s car bumped and slid along the country road. The wind and rain outside beat steadily against the windows, like the sound of an army marching itself toward death. Brilliant. Just Brilliant. My jet black hair hung loosely at my shoulders, as my pale fingers danced across the page I was reading, something about a man named Darcy. I wasn’t paying attention. I’d read the book numerous times before.
Closing the book and stuffing it into my bag, my eyes wandered to the constant view I could see outside. Lots of tree’s. I didn’t mind, in fact, forests and hidden places appealed to me greatly. Moving to Canada was my Dad’s idea, instead of commuting between here and New York, we could move up here permanently. I wasn’t consulted, as usual, but I didn’t mind.

The town I was moving to really was quite pleasant when looked at retrospectively, the small town of Berrystone is located in Ontario, Canada. With 3,500 citizens, it was the idyllic setting for my parent’s to set firm roots and for me to come into my own…apparently.
“You’ll love it there” my mum said to me - repeating her adopted credo since announcing the move. I was a tough nut to crack, but eventually I succumbed. I had grown to loathe New York; the unavoidable traffic, disgusting manners, the school I went to, the people I grew up with. I loathed it all, a melancholy approach some would say, but I had never felt truly right in New York, even though I was born there. I’m quiet. I like being alone and I like being isolated and kept in peace.
New York yielded no privacy, everyone’s problems were always more important than everyone else’s. Eventually, all the voices had collided and began to drone in my head, a monotone voice that wouldn’t stop.
I felt suffocated, stifled in my own head. I was a freak. I am a freak. I had never fit in with people, and after a few years, I just simply gave up. I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’.
I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.
Could I learn to live with it? Yes
Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

The harsh reality that the greatest piece of knowledge people my age could acquire was that of which celebrity was sleeping with whom, and how many times a certain pop star had had his nose under the knife gave me small comfort. I had matured years before they had, it wasn’t their fault. Their rich families had dragged them up that way, I may have accepted it, even grown to understand it, but I would never, ever be a part of it.
Perhaps my new school would divulge better results. I truly hoped so. My self imposed isolation had worked for me so far, but I was growing tired of being alone. Although I hated to admit it, I longed for friends. Real friends - the kind you can spend time with, trust implicitly, the kind that make you feel normal, the kind that don’t see you as a freak.
I had only ever had two friends, my cat…and Dante – the longest of long stories.
The car jerked to a stop, not wearing my seat belt I jerked forwards spilling coke down my white shirt. Perfect.
This whole situation was tap dancing on my last nerve; I had always been clumsy, from dropping a plate to falling down the stairs. I’d done it all.
Mum smiled as we got out of the car, “Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?” she said as she led my sister up the stone steps and through the solid oak doors to the manor. The stone and wood structure stood three floors tall, not including the turret, my bedroom.
The gardens were fairly extensive, rose bushes adorned the right side of the building, as ivy climbed up to the highest window and halfway across the manor. The back garden played host to an apple tree and a couple of pine tree’s; which towered protectively over the building. Despite how foreboding the structure was, my heart began to ease.
The manor signified a fresh start, a clean slate for me to design anyway I chose. My life would be better. I felt more at ease then I had in years. This house had been in my family for generations, mum grew up here and her mum before that – the scandal my mother, Janet had caused by leaving Berrystone and the manor was famous among our family.

“There’s no place like home” I smiled, the rain was now easing and the wind was dying down as my essence began to relax, “A fresh start” I whispered to myself, it was one of those occasions where one must express a thought out loud to confirm it. It was hard to believe I had finally been given this chance. The fear of ruining it all sat firmly on the periphery of my mind; however, I chose to ignore it. Step one to fresh starts was to leave old fears behind.
Stepping into the house, I was welcomed by the smell of fresh fruit and lavender, Dad had bought strawberries, peaches, cherries, apples and grapes at the market yesterday, their smell wafted throughout the near empty house. The lavender was coming from upstairs; Annabelle was already burning her incense and had locked her bedroom door. I felt sorry for her, she had lost close friends, she actually was someone back in New York, and she had everything to lose. I had nothing to lose.
“Pasta for tea okay Tristan?” my mum shouted from the kitchen. She knew it would be okay with me to have pasta, it was my favourite dish. Closing the front door behind me I quickly glanced around. The floors were hard wood; covered sporadically with old-fashioned rugs of deep red and gold, pictures of family members and my parent’s friends already had adorned the walls. The whole ground floor was open plan, every room had doors of course, but they were double door’s which glided to the side when opened.
The living room was painted a light cream, our black leather chairs were placed to face each other and the 90” flat screen TV which was already placed just above the fireplace. I walked towards my mum’s voice, passing the huge Carob staircase and my Dad’s study, into the kitchen.
My mum is a woman of 45, and, surprisingly, we look alike. I inherited most, if not all, my looks and personality traits from her side of the family. The long dark hair had been in her family for centuries, as had the good cheekbones, the slim figure, the pale complexion and the icy blue eyes. My mum was a chef in New York; she had managed to secure a place in a five star restaurant in Canada so she was more than happy to make the move.
Good for her.
The kitchen was a chef’s idea of heaven. My jaw dropped and my breathing slowed as my surroundings gleamed in the soft afternoon sun, which was throwing itself through the window above the sink. It was huge and monochrome. Every surface was a deep, impeccably clean metal, adorned with various instruments and cooking paraphernalia. I adored cooking, and I revelled in the knowledge that this kitchen was now mine. The copper and brass pots hung lazily from a rack above the counter in the middle of the room, as steam poured from three, small silver pots on the stove.
“Yeah, you know me, I love pasta.” I reminded her, stealing a breadstick from the counter. “Do you want me to set the table?” I asked, ever so helpful, utter precision was status quo; dutifully I began opening the cutlery drawer before receiving a response.

Lining the cutlery up on the marble counter ever so gracefully, they were my great grandmother’s. Solid silver with intricate roses and ivy printed into the handles, they gleamed like smiling teeth as I held them up to the golden honey of the sun. I quickly draped the black oak table in my mother’s best silk dining cloth, along with the crystal candlesticks, which stood illustriously proud above the table. Finally, I began to lay the table properly. Fork on the right. Knife on the left. Spoons aligned above and napkins folded into bishop’s hats beside the crystal glasses. How mundane. How blissfully normal. Perhaps my life was faker than I cared to admit?
I bit my tongue, just like I was trained to do. Swallowing my latest independent thought I secretly swore to myself that it would have centre stage, it would be expressed, I would not surrender every part of myself. I needed to wait for my moment, in which my thoughts would be listened to, perhaps even accepted?
Twirling my fingers around my glass, I sat with a seamlessly straight back as Annabelle and my Dad came to dinner. A fake smile stretching brazenly across each of their faces.
Annabelle’s sleek blonde hair had been twisted into a messy bun at the back of her head, wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt; she was a beautifully messy person. Her eyes were an intense chestnut brown and her complexion was slightly tanned. Annabelle took more after my dad than my mum, except for the flawlessly slim body.
Lucky her, how annoyingly perfect.
My dad, Tom had dirty blonde hair that was short and spiked, wonderfully matching his light tan and footballer physique. I had always respected my dad; he carried the air of someone in charge, and someone in blissful control. A person who always saw the best of life, the beauty and absolute enchantment of the world.
How unfortunately naive, if ignorance was indeed bliss, my dad was an ecstatic man
My mum swept into the room, as Annabelle and my Dad took their seats. A bowl of salad and a bowl of pasta soon adorned the table, the aroma of Italian home cooking, awakened my stomach from its prolonged slumber.
“Honey, this is delicious” my dad complimented, holding up a piece of bread and taking a sip of the blood red wine before him. “Best you’ve ever made” he smoothly added, before fluidly sweeping a fork full of pasta into his mouth.
So normal.
“Thank you” my mum replied, a warm smile crossing her lips as she took vast pleasure in making her family happy. “Annabelle, Tristan what do you think?”
“Great mum. Really” I answered a generic response that had been drilled into my very soul from an early age. I would never tell her that the bread was too dry. “The pasta is charming” I added, before smiling and shovelling a fork full into my mouth. The pasta was pretty good, if not a tad too spicy.
“Yes, its lovely” Annabelle said, her voice warm but slightly venomous “But I think it would have been easier to have conjured it.” She added tartly, before taking a sip from her glass as if nothing had been said.
“You know why we can’t use magic” my dad calmly reminded her “It is far too risky.”
“Your Father’s right, you need to learn to live as a human” my mum interjected, obviously ruffled by Annabelle’s comments, but trying desperately to hide it.
“We’re not humans. We’re witches” I murmured in a low voice. “It’s part of us, whether we like it or not.” I stated in a matter-of-fact manner. The voice inside me wanted to scream the words, but my own conscience pulled me back from that precipice.
My mum gaped at me, her chin almost touching the table, if it was any other circumstance I would have laughed, but once again my conscious pulled me back.
The lights in the room seemed so much brighter after this startling revelation, my throat began to grow dry as many minutes passed before, finally, my dad (in his infinite display of goodness) slashed through the silence like a knife through butter.

“Yes, it is perfectly understandable why you are angry about denying who you really are” his voice was slow and deliberate, “But we can’t risk being caught, this is a small town and people already are talking. We don’t need to give them anymore excuses, especially if it leads him to us”
Annabelle visibly stiffened, gently putting down her knife and fork, she tucked a hair that wasn’t there behind her ear and tried to gather herself, “Fine.” She agreed her voice cracked and emotionless.
The iron noose of secrecy slipped around my neck once again, I wanted to scream and shout, throw things and rain down magic on an unforgiving situation. Despite this, I remained immobile.
“It’s going to be difficult, but we’ll adjust” my mum suggested, her voice betraying her statement, she didn’t sound confident, but scared. ‘We’ll have to.’

Just like that, my clean slate was gone; perhaps I never really had one in the first place. The familiar feeling of isolation sank back into my mind, my heart felt heavy and dejected.
I was alone once again.
No fresh starts.
No clean slates.
No friends would be made.
“Fine” I whispered, succumbing to my fate.


Chapter 2
Cross Examination

I didn’t sleep well that night, the complex concoction of nerves and excitement kept me up reading until finally, in the still of night my body finally gave in, and let me fall into a difficult sleep.
A blanket of perfect white greeted me when I looked out the window in the morning; the crystal snow lay there indolently. It was completely oblivious to the inconvenience it caused the world around it, but its spectral beauty compensated for its lack of manners.
The house was deadly silent. Dad was already at work. Mum and Annabelle were still in bed, Mum didn’t start work till ten and Annabelle had enrolled in college. Some people had all the luck in the world.
Flipping the switch on the kettle, I threw a tea bag into a mug and waited, impatiently, for the kettle to boil. The temptation to use magic flirted with me shamelessly; my own heart and impatience begged me to boil the water faster. This thought was soon squashed by my mind, which scolded like a teacher at my own weakness.
Grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl, I sliced it placidly into quarters before finally pouring my cup of tea. I added just a smidge of milk and fourteen sugars, the tea was near black in color; just how I liked it.
Sitting at the solid wood table I sipped my tea and ate my orange segments, quietly scared to finish and begin my journey to school. I had never felt so nervous; it was so frustrating that I should be this petrified about a new school. It’s just a school; it’s just a school. The more I replayed my statement, the less I believed the sincerity of my own words.
It was impossible, being in this house, alone and afraid, not to see the gravity of my situation.
Dragging my body back up the stairs, I switched the power shower on and stepped into the bracing heat. The water seemed to hold me like a child, gently allowing my body to wake from its slumber by offering the promise of heat and comfort.
Running shampoo through my hair, the scent of peaches and strawberry’s filled the shower, making me smile gently.
The cool air stabbed at my skin, causing Goosebumps to spread like wildfire all over my body, grabbing a thick black towel and wrapping it round me, I stomped back to my room feeling sorry for myself. I loved the cold, but going from one extreme to another was an utter scandal.

I stood before my mirror, half naked and dripping wet, the image of me kicked caution out of my mind and caused me to take a short cut. Stretching magical abilities inside myself caused me to be dry in seconds.
I was dry, my hair was perfect and I was dressed in my favourite pair of jeans. The familiarity of using magic to aid me offered a small relief from my nerves. Magic was my comfort zone, an unseen friend in times of need
My black shirt and jeans were tight and hugged me smoothly in all the right places, as my pale skin contrasted strikingly against my clothes, I was sure to make a statement at school.

The clock read eight o’clock; I hurriedly grabbed my bag from the foot of my bed and slid down the banister to save time. My key’s jangled in my pocket as I slammed the front door.

Rushing down the path I lost my balance, the ice beneath me betrayed my efforts to stay upright; I went down onto my side, the snow beneath me cushioning the blow. I hoped and prayed that none of the neighbors saw my tumble.
I walked deliberately slow down the street - ice and snow greeted every step I took. I loved snow. Ice was a different kettle of fish altogether.

The school bus was already at the stop when I got there, no student’s getting on but me. I stepped on diffidently, knowing that everyone on the bus was staring at me; I gave the driver a dollar before finding a vacant seat near the back.
Whispers and gossip filled the air, along with the repugnant stench of perfume coming from the back, occasionally I caught snippets of chatter, some of it was about TV shows I had never even heard of, but most of it was about me. Gee, I thought to myself living in a small town’s gonna be fun.
Losing myself by staring out the window, I hadn’t even noticed that a girl about my age had slid next to me.
“Emily. Emily Harrison” she grabbed my hand and it shook it vigorously, before continuing, “You must be Tristan? We were told you were coming.” Her high- pitched voice laced with a heavy southern accent made her sound loud but friendly.
“Oh?” I replied “No wonder everyone’s talking” I sighed, smiling in return to hers. She was relatively pretty, her warm brown curls lying smartly at her shoulders while her brown eyes darted back and forth. Her smile was warm and welcoming, gently piercing her rosy cheeks.
“Its just small town news, everyone knows everyone else’s business around here. You’ll get used to it.” She laughed; “So what subjects are you taking?” her keen voice soothed my nerves. I had never held so much conversation with anyone my age before; I silently thanked her for her enthusiasm.
“English, History, Culinary, Psychology and Critical Thinking.” I answered obediently, before turning my body more fully towards her.
“Oooo, I think I’m in your English and Culinary class!” she squealed excitedly.
The bus journey seemed short, Emily kept probing me about where I used to live, what I do for fun and she filled me in on the entire goings on at the school. Apparently some girl named Susie had just broken up with some boy called David…Again.
The bus lost its speed as we approached the school, a medieval structure that looked more like an exquisitely large mansion, rather then a small town high school in Canada. The tall towers stretched gallantly into the sky, as the walls stood firmly rooted to the earth. A quiet elegance surrounded the whole building, a maturity and freedom that was lost among normal high schools, education was taken very seriously here.
Emily grabbed me by the hand and quickly dragged me off the bus, before anyone had even bothered to notice we’d stopped. I made a mental note to query her where she got all her energy.

Emily dragged me through the students, dodging and weaving as she led me up the front lawn and across the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of a fountain and a hedge before I was being dragged into the building.
It was bewitching.
The walls were crafted of finely polished oak and stretched longingly high above me; the windows were large and most were images crafted expertly from stained glass, depicting roses and swords. Oil paintings rested comfortably on the walls, old alumni, old headmasters and depictions of graduation ceremonies were the common theme.
“Impressive” I whispered, turning to Emily I asked “What’s the rush?”
“Oh, you are in my registration class, that’s how I knew you were coming, and we don’t want to be late do we? Because if you were late on your first day, you’d have to walk into the room with the whole class staring at you and that would be bad, wouldn’t you say?” she babbled her lips moving unimaginably fast. I had to admit the embarrassment of walking late into a room full of strangers, who were bound to be judging me, was an idea I didn’t like to entertain.

Taking a seat near the back of the room, the class filed in shortly afterwards, the hum of chatter and conversation carried into the room.
Emily left me to my own devices. To my horror, people started to crowd me and ask me questions, firing them at me like darts. I was being felt out. I was being cross-examined. However, I saw no malice in my classmate’s words, no one tried to trip me up on my likes and dislikes; they were just normal people trying to get to know me.
For the first time in my life, I felt welcome in a room full of teenagers.
“Where are you from?” a blonde girl shot at me, her face eager and her eyes bright.
“New York”
“Ah, the big apple…why on earth did you move?” interrupted a short fat boy, before he sat himself on my desk.
“My dad just got a job at Bedford and Bremmer” Three mouths dropped at my a reply, I already knew that my dad was working at a prestigious law firm.
“What do you think of town?” the blonde girl continued, shooting a scathing look at the fat boy.
“Uh,” I hesitated “It’s really picturesque” I hurried, as I tried to avoid direct eye contact with any of them.
“Take your seats now please” sounded a strong, unyielding voice. It was Mr. Percival, a balding middle-aged man, dressed had to foot in tweed.
My classmates obeyed without question, a hushed silence descending into the room like a ghost.
Sitting at his desk, Mr. Percival pulled out a deep maroon file from his drawer, proceeding to a take a pencil from his inner pocket, he began to call names, as tired voices replied drone-line with the word ‘Present’.
“Tristan Lancaster?” Mr. Percival’s voice punctured every syllable in my name, a slight surprise in his voice that he had a new pupil.
“Present” I timidly replied, aware that all eyes in the room, asleep or not, were directed towards me.
The bell rang moronically into the room, a high-pitched scream emitting from a red metal disc on the wall. I knew in those seconds that I would have a headache by the end of the day. Oh joy - just what I need.

Today was Wednesday, my heart jumped when I realised English was first – my favourite subject.
Emily was already ushering me out of the classroom before I even had a chance to put my timetable away, chattering like a June bug once again.
The corridors were packed with students; I was being buffed left and right as Emily led me ardently to English.
The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunshine, which shone through the back wall that was a giant window of clear glass, looking out onto the sports field.
The sidewalls were bookcases that reached up to the ceiling; every inch of shelf taken up by a collection of leather bound tomes, the vast works of great literary minds stood before me and I couldn’t help but feel a note of respect.
The class rushed in, Emily shoved a blonde girl out of our way and sat me in a seat near the front.
As the class was still settling, I dug into my bag for the reading list and my books, “Othello” by William Shakespeare was at the top of the list, we had already covered this in detail at my old school, but I didn’t care. I enjoyed English more than any subject in the world, reading was an avid passion of mine, and the chance to sharply question and analyse works by writers never slipped past me.

A tall woman with auburn hair swept into the room, her hair flailing wildly behind her. Miss Murray was incredibly well structured, like a live teacher version of Jessica Rabbit, her waist was tiny, but her upper body size was far past that of an ordinary’s woman’s’. As soon as she entered the room, I felt every man except myself sit up in their chairs.
“Good morning class. Oh, you must be Tristan?” her voice was deep and feminine, much like the way she sauntered over to me.
“Yes, I am” I replied, fully aware that my face was turning red.
“I doubt you’ll need your books, you can have a grace period, I don’t expect you to be able to participate in the analysis this morning” she continued in earnest, it sounded patronising, but I could tell that she was trying to be friendly. “So if you would just like to take notes?” she suggested and I nodded obediently.
“Now, if you all did the reading, like I asked you to, you should have no trouble taking part in today’s discussion” she stated as she overlooked the class, her eyes were eager and searching. “Jealousy clearly is the tool that Iago uses to undo Othello. But what's his motivation? What reason does Iago give for destroying his superior officer?”
“Race?” came a confident, questioning voice from behind me.
“Good Nancy can't overlook race. Anyone else care to contribute?”
“Cassio has my place. Twix my sheets, he’s done my office. He was passed over for promotion. Cassio was picked instead and people were saying that Othello slept with his wife,” a manly, well-spoken voice with a slight English accent sounded from the back. Miss. Murray’s face lit up with satisfaction, nervously I put my hand up.
“Yes Tristan, is something wrong?” she enquired. Every head in the room turned to me, looking at me expectantly.
“Oh no, I just wanted to contribute” I replied, suddenly regretting putting my hand up.
“Oh” Miss. Murray said, looking stunned, “Well, if you think you can, by all means please do” she continued skeptically.
“Well, uh, he sort of admits himself that his motives are... spurious” I gulped, remembering how to breathe, “He, um, he does things because he…he enjoys them. It's like he's not, not really a person. He's like, the dark half of Othello himself.” I finished, taking a quick glance around the room. Everyone’s mouths were agape, feeling like a scolded child; I sank deep into my chair.
“Tristan, really, Very astute, please, feel free to contribute as much as you want” she complimented; causing me to glow slightly, it was clear to me I had not lost my knack for English.
The rest of the morning went blissfully well, discovering that I was ahead in all my subjects gave me the edge to impress all my teachers, a bit geeky, but it’s always better to have a teacher on side I concluded as I described in vivid detail Freud’s theory of psychosexual development.
I quickly began to adjust to being in a new school. Emily introduced me to her boyfriend Jake, who was about a foot taller than me, and promised to keep me company in Critical Thinking and he also promised Emily he wouldn’t let me slip over on the way there. A reputation for being a klutz already? I thought to myself, slightly embarrassed; Great

As Jake walked me to lunch, a knot of unfathomable nerves formed in my stomach, tightly twisting and stretching causing me to feel sick.
As we got to the lunchroom, Jake pulled me by the arm to the right and out of the side door, the sudden cold hit me like a train causing me to jump backwards and wind myself.
Hardly breathing I enquired, “What… are…we… doing?” I managed, before being able to catch my breath and stand upright once again.
“The gang never eats inside, we go to the quad” Jake replied before picking up my bag and handing to me. How polite.
“I’m not sure about breaking the rules on my first day”.
“We’re not. Its perfectly within the rules, we’re just the only people that eat there.” Jake replied, before once again starting to walk.
We turned the corner, before me stood four stone pillars being consumed with various plant life placed evenly on the corners of a square made of paving slabs. In the centre was a raised square which plaid host to a cherry blossom tree, unseasonably in full bloom.
Jake sat at the base of the tree, pulling his lunch out from his bag two hands entwined around him, before Emily popped her head around and kissed him softly on the lips. How sweet. How romantic.
“Trist, breaking the rules on your first day? Shame on you” Emily joked; I glared at Jake before sitting cross legged beside them.
“Dreadfully sorry I’m late” came a familiar voice, a manly, well-spoken voice which had the slightest tinge of English, “Had to stop in the Cafeteria for a salad.”
I turned my head, to address whoever was speaking to us. Standing before me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, his features were handsome and well sculpted, and his skin was milky pale - just like mine. His hair was a deep black, lighter than mine, but still dark. It was cut stylishly just below his ears, layered, with no visible parting and stylish gel spikes which made him look slightly university student rather then High school student.
His body was slender, but his tight t-shirt revealed that he had muscles a Greek god would be proud to have. He towered high above me, standing at approximately 6ft 4” his mere presence oozed masculinity laced with careful elegance and grace.

“Oh, please excuse my lack of manners” he apologized, looking down at me, “I’m Nick. Nick Hobbs” he swept into a bow jokingly, locking eyes with me. Nick’s eyes were a pure emerald green, they caught me in their spell and held me for what seemed like hours, and to my horror…my face seemed to boil as I blushed, a deep crimson.

Hiya! Dreamwalker here with one review as promised .

Okay so first off I always start with my critiques, like picking out things you may find appealing to fix. Then I go into characters, the setting, grammer and punctuation, plot, and then my overall opinion on the work. Okay so lets start .

Critique

My jet black hair hung loosely at my shoulders, as my pale fingers danced across the page I was reading, something about a man named Darcy.

I'm never a huge fan of using ...'s but in this situation it would be more prefered if you made the reader linger a little. Try wording your sentence by adding a period instead of a comma at the end of reading and ...'s behind Darcy instead of a complete stop. That way It'll linger a bit and give a sense of forboding which is what I think you were trying to get across.

Moving to Canada was my Dad’s idea, instead of commuting between here and New York, we could move up here permanently.

In proper punctuation, this should be two sentences. But a period behind York and capitalize we.

The town I was moving to really was quite pleasant when looked at retrospectively, the small town of Berrystone is located in Ontario, Canada.

Again you need to use a period instead of a comma. Put the period after retrospectively and capitalize 'the'.

I loathed it all, a melancholy approach some would say, but I had never felt truly right in New York, even though I was born there.

I would put a period behind I loathed it all. It would give it a more powerful feel.

I like being alone and I like being isolated and kept in peace.

Nice character developement. Very casual and yet perfectly placed. I like that.

New York yielded no privacy, everyone’s problems were always more important than everyone else’s.

Again, a period should be in use here. I think you get my hint about the comma's now so I wont pick out the rest of them if you dont mind. I dont see the need in it if you get my drifts from the ones prior.

I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t

Pretended doesnt sound quite right in this area. Maybe put this sentence into present tense by saying 'I refuse to try and pretend that I'm someone I'm not' because having it in the past tense doesnt sound right in the way you worded it.

Could I learn to live with it? Yes

There should be a period behind yes.

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

In retrospect, you had this sort of 'questioning period' but this part was the only one that had italics. If you're going to use italics, use them on all or none. That way it will make it more professional and will make the reader take your work more seriously.

The harsh reality that the greatest piece of knowledge people my age could acquire was that of which celebrity was sleeping with whom, and how many times a certain pop star had had his nose under the knife gave me small comfort.

There should be a comma between knife and gave . Other then that, nice sentence.

This whole situation was tap dancing on my last nerve; I had always been clumsy, from dropping a plate to falling down the stairs. I’d done it all.

Alright, the dreaded semicolon. I dont mind these once or twice in a chapter but used respectfully. More then that though and I start picking up on them and getting annoyed. Dont use to many and try to be percise when you do. They can be easily avoided.

Mum smiled as we got out of the car, “Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?” she said as she led my sister up the stone steps and through the solid oak doors to the manor.

This area is littered with mistakes on structure, but since it's sort of all in one, I can give you the basics and not have to pick out anything on the way.

Structure.

-"I went to the park," he said.
-"I went to the park." He started off simply.
-"Can I go to the park?" he asked.
-He walked out the door. "I'm going to the park.
-He said, "I'm going to the park.
-he asked, "Can I go to the park?"

This is just some basic structure tips on how quotations work out. You have a punch of comma's and missing periods in that bit. Also, the words muttered, murmured, stated, they all work out the same way as said so you can use a comma in those instances.

The stone and wood structure stood three floors tall, not including the turret, my bedroom.

This sentence doesnt make much sense to me. I dont know if it's worded correctly or if theres a missing word, but it doesnt really make a ton of sense.

The back garden played host to an apple tree and a couple of pine tree’s; which towered protectively over the building.

Not necessarily the correct use of a semicolon.

I felt more at ease then I had in years.

The word ease is starting to sound repetitive since you used it two sentences prior ago.

The floors were hard wood; covered sporadically with old-fashioned rugs of deep red and gold, pictures of family members and my parent’s friends already had adorned the walls. The whole ground floor was open plan, every room had doors of course, but they were double door’s which glided to the side when opened.

Nice, I like the subtle descriptions of the setting. Very classy.

Lining the cutlery up on the marble counter ever so gracefully, they were my great grandmother’s.

This sentence isnt quite worded right. It should be 'I lined the cutlery up on the marbe counter ever so gracefully. They had been my great grandmother's'.

How mundane. How blissfully normal.

Folding your napkins into bishop hats for a normal dinner is blissfully normal? I dont know where you come from but where I live in Canada, we dont much care for folding everything perfectly unless its a big dinner with the family or a party. Folding everything and making sure it's all perfect makes it seem a little 'stepford wives' ish.

Annabelle’s sleek blonde hair had been twisted into a messy bun at the back of her head, wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt; she was a beautifully messy person. Her eyes were an intense chestnut brown and her complexion was slightly tanned.

Oh dear, it sounds like me. Also, this bit is sort of cliched on the fact that the sisters are completely different. You should have them keep at least something of the same trait but for one to have brown eyes, blond hair and tanned skin, while the other hand black hair, pale skin, and blue eyes make it feel terribly cliched and as if they arent of the same family. The reader is smart and they can smell cliche from a mile away.

he carried the air of someone in charge, and someone in blissful control.

Again there is some redundancy issues with the word bliss. Dont overuse words so closely together like having the same word twice in a paragraph. It just sounds silly.

How unfortunately naive, if ignorance was indeed bliss, my dad was an ecstatic man

There should be a period at the end of this.

(in his infinite display of goodness)

Ah brackets. I do believe brackets are not necessary in literature. Sorry, I dont want to risk sounding rude, but I do hate brackets more then semicolons and that is a lot. They arent necessary for this is all in the characters POV anyways. Just use comma's. Really no need for the brackets.

“Fine” I whispered, succumbing to my fate.

I particularily like how this chapter was ended. Interesting .

It was completely oblivious to the inconvenience it caused the world around it, but its spectral beauty compensated for its lack of manners.

I particularily like this sentence. It really personifies the snow and makes you almost feel for it in that sense. The wording is also brilliant.

I added just a smidge of milk and fourteen sugars, the tea was near black in color; just how I liked it.

She has 14 sugars in her tea and yet she still remains having a slim figure.. how...lucky.

Running shampoo through my hair, the scent of peaches and strawberry’s filled the shower, making me smile gently.

Ah peaches and strawberries. Sounds heavenly.. makes me want to shower now XD.

Magic was my comfort zone, an unseen friend in times of need

There is a missing period in there.

My black shirt and jeans were tight and hugged me smoothly in all the right places, as my pale skin contrasted strikingly against my clothes, I was sure to make a statement at school.

Females, no matter who they are or how goodlooking they are, never think themselves so goodlooking at that. I dont want to be rude or anything but modesty is a must and your character may make females feel terribly inadequete when you speak of her being so perfect. It makes girls somewhat sad, and not just ordinary or relatively nongoodlooking girls but all girls. You dont want to turn the gender that will most likely read you book away. If you're going to pick an opposite gender, then you have to get your facts straight.

The clock read eight o’clock

Okay so this should just be 'the clock read eight' because using the word clock twice in a sentence makes it sound terribly repeititive.

Rushing down the path I lost my balance, the ice beneath me betrayed my efforts to stay upright; I went down onto my side, the snow beneath me cushioning the blow. I hoped and prayed that none of the neighbors saw my tumble.

I found this bit completely unnecessary. Once again, your readers are smart. They will pick up on unnecessary bits. You can explain her not liking ice with something else but mostly, just dont add in a lot of random things as that that truly arent really necessary.

I gave the driver a dollar before finding a vacant seat near the back.

In what school in Canada do they make you pay a dollar to take the school bus? Isnt that kind of what we pay taxes for? To eliminate said costs?

Her smile was warm and welcoming, gently piercing her rosy cheeks.

Again the word warm is becoming terribly redudant.

She laughed; “So what subjects are you taking?”

Wrong use of a semicolon. Should be a period.

“English, History, Culinary, Psychology and Critical Thinking.” I answered obediently, before turning my body more fully towards her.

Again another Canadian difference. Unless this is some sort of private school she should only be taking four courses per semester in either public or catholic. Sorry, I live in Ontario and these little things I sort of get picky on. I dont necessarily know where you live though, but from what I know, we only have four courses a semester, not five.

old headmasters and depictions of graduation ceremonies were the common theme.

Sounds very... harry potter to me. I'm sure you do realise that no one calls principals headmaster anymore.. it's just too... british.

dressed had to foot in tweed.

I'm sure its dressed 'head' to foot not 'had' to foot.

The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunshine, which shone through the back wall that was a giant window of clear glass, looking out onto the sports field.

Feels very Twilight-like. A classroom with a glass wall would be fairly distracting to the pupils, I would think, and that is why there isnt in normal schools. Also, a glass wall on a medieval looking building would also not fit right for glass was a hard thing to come by in that time-era.

I felt every man except myself sit up in their chairs.

And suddenly I realised something terribly unobvious. Tristan is male... how odd. Throught the first chapter and all that, I had no idea that Tristan was male. Yes the name was very male, but I know a female named Ryan. Please specify this in the beginning because.. well.. oh dear. I cant believe I made such an assumption. I guess just the steriotype of witch made me think female as well.

Jake replied before picking up my bag and handing to me.

I'm sure there is supposed to be an it between handing and to.

and to my horror…my face seemed to boil as I blushed, a deep crimson.

Ah so his sexuality is gay. I definitly like that twist. It gives your story something that others dont have. I myself have been writing a story about elves who so happen to be gay but in a strange sense. there is a lot of confusion in their relationship but I couldn't possibly explain it now. Interesting way to end a chapter though .

Punctuation/Grammer

Okay so do you want the good or the bad first? I'll start with the bad to get it over with. Your punctuation is sort of horrific. I dont mean to be rude but you have comma's where periods should be and such things. I'm sure with a little practice that will all be fixed up, just watch out for that. It's important to get your structure down and I really mean nail it in. It's a very important part of literature.

Now for the good part. You're vocabulary is phenominal. Your wording, I find, is incredible and holds a lot of merits in my books. Truly fascinating. There are some points that get a little redundant but all good writers make a few mistakes here and there. Mostly though, your extensive vocabulary is quite beautiful and really reaches me.

Setting

Your setting is slightly describe here and there and is pretty subtle. Enough is definitly given away, but some of the settings feel just a wee bit cliched, like the medieval castle that is the school for instance. I dont know about you but I have never heard of a medieval school being located in Canada before. To me it just sounds silly.

The mansion of a house though sounds amazing, and the way you descrive the snow is awfully wonderful.

Characters

From what I got, and discluding the fact that I failed epically on figuring out if the protagonist is either female or male, I do believe your characters are wonderfully potrayed, especially Tristan. There was a lot of character developement and such things, but the only thing I think you should work on is portraying your male character for being a male. I feel awful that I thought he was female this entire time.. it makes me feel sort of unobservant.

Plot

From what I have read so far, your plotline isnt necessarily shining through quite yet. I'm curious as to see what conflict happens in this story, but for now it seems fairly blank. It is only the first two chapters though so I wouldnt worry much if I was you.

Overall

I loved this. Later on you may realise that that is my most renowed applause you could possibly get from me. When I say I loved it, it really means as such. This story was beautifully sculpted, the characters lovable and interesting. Your plot catches my interest and I loved it from the first couple sentences all the way to the end of chapter two. It left me wanting more and that is the greatest thing a writer can do. There is originality in your work as well that sets this off as it's very own and although I feel there there are many things you must improve on, your knack for catching my interest and anyones around me is something that shouldnt be taken lightly.

Your work is brilliant and dont let anyone tell you it isnt. Truly a wonderful piece and I would ask of you to PM me if you post up more from this story. Wonderful, truly.

Ciao
-The.Dreamwalker

Hello! Here as requested.


Grammar & Line-by-line Comments:

Lots of tree[s]’[/s]s. I didn’t mind, in fact, forests and hidden places appealed to me greatly. Moving to Canada was my [s]Dad’s[/s]dad's idea, instead of commuting between here and New York, we could move up here permanently.

The town I was moving to really was quite pleasant when looked at retrospectively[s],[/s]; the small town of Berrystone is located in Ontario, Canada. With 3,500 citizens, it was the idyllic setting for my parent[s]'[/s]s to set firm roots and for me to come into my own…apparently.

“You’ll love it there” my mum said to me - repeating her adopted credo since announcing the move. I was a tough nut to crack, but eventually I succumbed. I had grown to loathe New York; the unavoidable traffic, disgusting manners, the school I went to, the people I grew up with. I loathed it all, a melancholy approach some would say, but I had never felt truly right in New York, even though I was born there. I’m quiet. I like being alone and I like being isolated and kept in peace.

New York yielded no privacy, everyone’s problems were always more important than everyone else’s. Eventually, all the voices had collided and began to drone in my head, a monotone voice that wouldn’t stop.

I felt suffocated, stifled in my own head. I was a freak. I am a freak. I had never fit in with people, and after a few years, I just simply gave up. I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’.

I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.

Could I learn to live with it? Yes

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

The harsh reality that the greatest piece of knowledge people my age could acquire was that of which celebrity was sleeping with whom, and how many times a certain pop star had had his nose under the knife gave me small comfort. I had matured years before they had, it wasn’t their fault. Their rich families had dragged them up that way, I may have accepted it, even grown to understand it, but I would never, ever be a part of it.

Perhaps my new school would divulge better results. I truly hoped so. My self imposed isolation had worked for me so far, but I was growing tired of being alone. Although I hated to admit it, I longed for friends. Real friends - the kind you can spend time with, trust implicitly, the kind that make you feel normal, the kind that don’t see you as a freak.

I had only ever had two friends, my cat…and Dante – the longest of long stories.

The car jerked to a stop, not wearing my seat belt I jerked forwards spilling coke down my white shirt. Perfect.

This whole situation was tap dancing on my last nerve; I had always been clumsy, from dropping a plate to falling down the stairs. I’d done it all.

Mum smiled as we got out of the car, “Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?” she said as she led my sister up the stone steps and through the solid oak doors to the manor. The stone and wood structure stood three floors tall, not including the turret, my bedroom.

The gardens were fairly extensive, rose bushes adorned the right side of the building, as ivy climbed up to the highest window and halfway across the manor. The back garden played host to an apple tree and a couple of pine tree’s; which towered protectively over the building. Despite how foreboding the structure was, my heart began to ease.

The manor signified a fresh start, a clean slate for me to design anyway I chose. My life would be better. I felt more at ease then I had in years. This house had been in my family for generations, mum grew up here and her mum before that – the scandal my mother, Janet had caused by leaving Berrystone and the manor was famous among our family.

“There’s no place like home” I smiled, the rain was now easing and the wind was dying down as my essence began to relax, “A fresh start” I whispered to myself, it was one of those occasions where one must express a thought out loud to confirm it. It was hard to believe I had finally been given this chance. The fear of ruining it all sat firmly on the periphery of my mind; however, I chose to ignore it. Step one to fresh starts was to leave old fears behind.

Stepping into the house, I was welcomed by the smell of fresh fruit and lavender, Dad had bought strawberries, peaches, cherries, apples and grapes at the market yesterday, their smell wafted throughout the near empty house. The lavender was coming from upstairs; Annabelle was already burning her incense and had locked her bedroom door. I felt sorry for her, she had lost close friends, she actually was someone back in New York, and she had everything to lose. I had nothing to lose.

“Pasta for tea okay Tristan?” my mum shouted from the kitchen. She knew it would be okay with me to have pasta, it was my favourite dish. Closing the front door behind me I quickly glanced around. The floors were hard wood; covered sporadically with old-fashioned rugs of deep red and gold, pictures of family members and my parent’s friends already had adorned the walls. The whole ground floor was open plan, every room had doors of course, but they were double door’s which glided to the side when opened.

The living room was painted a light cream, our black leather chairs were placed to face each other and the 90” flat screen TV which was already placed just above the fireplace. I walked towards my mum’s voice, passing the huge Carob staircase and my Dad’s study, into the kitchen.

My mum is a woman of 45, and, surprisingly, we look alike. I inherited most, if not all, my looks and personality traits from her side of the family. The long dark hair had been in her family for centuries, as had the good cheekbones, the slim figure, the pale complexion and the icy blue eyes. My mum was a chef in New York; she had managed to secure a place in a five star restaurant in Canada so she was more than happy to make the move.

Good for her.

The kitchen was a chef’s idea of heaven. My jaw dropped and my breathing slowed as my surroundings gleamed in the soft afternoon sun, which was throwing itself through the window above the sink. It was huge and monochrome. Every surface was a deep, impeccably clean metal, adorned with various instruments and cooking paraphernalia. I adored cooking, and I revelled in the knowledge that this kitchen was now mine. The copper and brass pots hung lazily from a rack above the counter in the middle of the room, as steam poured from three, small silver pots on the stove.

“Yeah, you know me, I love pasta.” I reminded her, stealing a breadstick from the counter. “Do you want me to set the table?” I asked, ever so helpful, utter precision was status quo; dutifully I began opening the cutlery drawer before receiving a response.

Lining the cutlery up on the marble counter ever so gracefully, they were my great grandmother’s. Solid silver with intricate roses and ivy printed into the handles, they gleamed like smiling teeth as I held them up to the golden honey of the sun. I quickly draped the black oak table in my mother’s best silk dining cloth, along with the crystal candlesticks, which stood illustriously proud above the table. Finally, I began to lay the table properly. Fork on the right. Knife on the left. Spoons aligned above and napkins folded into bishop’s hats beside the crystal glasses. How mundane. How blissfully normal. Perhaps my life was faker than I cared to admit?

I bit my tongue, just like I was trained to do. Swallowing my latest independent thought I secretly swore to myself that it would have centre stage, it would be expressed, I would not surrender every part of myself. I needed to wait for my moment, in which my thoughts would be listened to, perhaps even accepted?

Twirling my fingers around my glass, I sat with a seamlessly straight back as Annabelle and my Dad came to dinner. A fake smile stretching brazenly across each of their faces.

Annabelle’s sleek blonde hair had been twisted into a messy bun at the back of her head, wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt; she was a beautifully messy person. Her eyes were an intense chestnut brown and her complexion was slightly tanned. Annabelle took more after my dad than my mum, except for the flawlessly slim body.

Lucky her, how annoyingly perfect.

My dad, Tom had dirty blonde hair that was short and spiked, wonderfully matching his light tan and footballer physique. I had always respected my dad; he carried the air of someone in charge, and someone in blissful control. A person who always saw the best of life, the beauty and absolute enchantment of the world.

How unfortunately naive, if ignorance was indeed bliss, my dad was an ecstatic man

My mum swept into the room, as Annabelle and my Dad took their seats. A bowl of salad and a bowl of pasta soon adorned the table, the aroma of Italian home cooking, awakened my stomach from its prolonged slumber.

“Honey, this is delicious” my dad complimented, holding up a piece of bread and taking a sip of the blood red wine before him. “Best you’ve ever made” he smoothly added, before fluidly sweeping a fork full of pasta into his mouth.

So normal.

“Thank you” my mum replied, a warm smile crossing her lips as she took vast pleasure in making her family happy. “Annabelle, Tristan what do you think?”

“Great mum. Really” I answered a generic response that had been drilled into my very soul from an early age. I would never tell her that the bread was too dry. “The pasta is charming” I added, before smiling and shovelling a fork full into my mouth. The pasta was pretty good, if not a tad too spicy.

“Yes, its lovely” Annabelle said, her voice warm but slightly venomous “But I think it would have been easier to have conjured it.” She added tartly, before taking a sip from her glass as if nothing had been said.

“You know why we can’t use magic” my dad calmly reminded her “It is far too risky.”
“Your Father’s right, you need to learn to live as a human” my mum interjected, obviously ruffled by Annabelle’s comments, but trying desperately to hide it.
“We’re not humans. We’re witches” I murmured in a low voice. “It’s part of us, whether we like it or not.” I stated in a matter-of-fact manner. The voice inside me wanted to scream the words, but my own conscience pulled me back from that precipice.
My mum gaped at me, her chin almost touching the table, if it was any other circumstance I would have laughed, but once again my conscious pulled me back.
The lights in the room seemed so much brighter after this startling revelation, my throat began to grow dry as many minutes passed before, finally, my dad (in his infinite display of goodness) slashed through the silence like a knife through butter.

“Yes, it is perfectly understandable why you are angry about denying who you really are” his voice was slow and deliberate, “But we can’t risk being caught, this is a small town and people already are talking. We don’t need to give them anymore excuses, especially if it leads him to us”
Annabelle visibly stiffened, gently putting down her knife and fork, she tucked a hair that wasn’t there behind her ear and tried to gather herself, “Fine.” She agreed her voice cracked and emotionless.
The iron noose of secrecy slipped around my neck once again, I wanted to scream and shout, throw things and rain down magic on an unforgiving situation. Despite this, I remained immobile.
“It’s going to be difficult, but we’ll adjust” my mum suggested, her voice betraying her statement, she didn’t sound confident, but scared. ‘We’ll have to.’

Just like that, my clean slate was gone; perhaps I never really had one in the first place. The familiar feeling of isolation sank back into my mind, my heart felt heavy and dejected.
I was alone once again.
No fresh starts.
No clean slates.
No friends would be made.
“Fine” I whispered, succumbing to my fate.


Chapter 2
Cross Examination

I didn’t sleep well that night, the complex concoction of nerves and excitement kept me up reading until finally, in the still of night my body finally gave in, and let me fall into a difficult sleep.
A blanket of perfect white greeted me when I looked out the window in the morning; the crystal snow lay there indolently. It was completely oblivious to the inconvenience it caused the world around it, but its spectral beauty compensated for its lack of manners.
The house was deadly silent. Dad was already at work. Mum and Annabelle were still in bed, Mum didn’t start work till ten and Annabelle had enrolled in college. Some people had all the luck in the world.
Flipping the switch on the kettle, I threw a tea bag into a mug and waited, impatiently, for the kettle to boil. The temptation to use magic flirted with me shamelessly; my own heart and impatience begged me to boil the water faster. This thought was soon squashed by my mind, which scolded like a teacher at my own weakness.
Grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl, I sliced it placidly into quarters before finally pouring my cup of tea. I added just a smidge of milk and fourteen sugars, the tea was near black in color; just how I liked it.
Sitting at the solid wood table I sipped my tea and ate my orange segments, quietly scared to finish and begin my journey to school. I had never felt so nervous; it was so frustrating that I should be this petrified about a new school. It’s just a school; it’s just a school. The more I replayed my statement, the less I believed the sincerity of my own words.
It was impossible, being in this house, alone and afraid, not to see the gravity of my situation.
Dragging my body back up the stairs, I switched the power shower on and stepped into the bracing heat. The water seemed to hold me like a child, gently allowing my body to wake from its slumber by offering the promise of heat and comfort.
Running shampoo through my hair, the scent of peaches and strawberry’s filled the shower, making me smile gently.
The cool air stabbed at my skin, causing Goosebumps to spread like wildfire all over my body, grabbing a thick black towel and wrapping it round me, I stomped back to my room feeling sorry for myself. I loved the cold, but going from one extreme to another was an utter scandal.

I stood before my mirror, half naked and dripping wet, the image of me kicked caution out of my mind and caused me to take a short cut. Stretching magical abilities inside myself caused me to be dry in seconds.
I was dry, my hair was perfect and I was dressed in my favourite pair of jeans. The familiarity of using magic to aid me offered a small relief from my nerves. Magic was my comfort zone, an unseen friend in times of need
My black shirt and jeans were tight and hugged me smoothly in all the right places, as my pale skin contrasted strikingly against my clothes, I was sure to make a statement at school.

The clock read eight o’clock; I hurriedly grabbed my bag from the foot of my bed and slid down the banister to save time. My key’s jangled in my pocket as I slammed the front door.

Rushing down the path I lost my balance, the ice beneath me betrayed my efforts to stay upright; I went down onto my side, the snow beneath me cushioning the blow. I hoped and prayed that none of the neighbors saw my tumble.
I walked deliberately slow down the street - ice and snow greeted every step I took. I loved snow. Ice was a different kettle of fish altogether.

The school bus was already at the stop when I got there, no student’s getting on but me. I stepped on diffidently, knowing that everyone on the bus was staring at me; I gave the driver a dollar before finding a vacant seat near the back.
Whispers and gossip filled the air, along with the repugnant stench of perfume coming from the back, occasionally I caught snippets of chatter, some of it was about TV shows I had never even heard of, but most of it was about me. Gee, I thought to myself living in a small town’s gonna be fun.
Losing myself by staring out the window, I hadn’t even noticed that a girl about my age had slid next to me.
“Emily. Emily Harrison” she grabbed my hand and it shook it vigorously, before continuing, “You must be Tristan? We were told you were coming.” Her high- pitched voice laced with a heavy southern accent made her sound loud but friendly.
“Oh?” I replied “No wonder everyone’s talking” I sighed, smiling in return to hers. She was relatively pretty, her warm brown curls lying smartly at her shoulders while her brown eyes darted back and forth. Her smile was warm and welcoming, gently piercing her rosy cheeks.
“Its just small town news, everyone knows everyone else’s business around here. You’ll get used to it.” She laughed; “So what subjects are you taking?” her keen voice soothed my nerves. I had never held so much conversation with anyone my age before; I silently thanked her for her enthusiasm.
“English, History, Culinary, Psychology and Critical Thinking.” I answered obediently, before turning my body more fully towards her.
“Oooo, I think I’m in your English and Culinary class!” she squealed excitedly.
The bus journey seemed short, Emily kept probing me about where I used to live, what I do for fun and she filled me in on the entire goings on at the school. Apparently some girl named Susie had just broken up with some boy called David…Again.
The bus lost its speed as we approached the school, a medieval structure that looked more like an exquisitely large mansion, rather then a small town high school in Canada. The tall towers stretched gallantly into the sky, as the walls stood firmly rooted to the earth. A quiet elegance surrounded the whole building, a maturity and freedom that was lost among normal high schools, education was taken very seriously here.
Emily grabbed me by the hand and quickly dragged me off the bus, before anyone had even bothered to notice we’d stopped. I made a mental note to query her where she got all her energy.

Emily dragged me through the students, dodging and weaving as she led me up the front lawn and across the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of a fountain and a hedge before I was being dragged into the building.
It was bewitching.
The walls were crafted of finely polished oak and stretched longingly high above me; the windows were large and most were images crafted expertly from stained glass, depicting roses and swords. Oil paintings rested comfortably on the walls, old alumni, old headmasters and depictions of graduation ceremonies were the common theme.
“Impressive” I whispered, turning to Emily I asked “What’s the rush?”
“Oh, you are in my registration class, that’s how I knew you were coming, and we don’t want to be late do we? Because if you were late on your first day, you’d have to walk into the room with the whole class staring at you and that would be bad, wouldn’t you say?” she babbled her lips moving unimaginably fast. I had to admit the embarrassment of walking late into a room full of strangers, who were bound to be judging me, was an idea I didn’t like to entertain.

Taking a seat near the back of the room, the class filed in shortly afterwards, the hum of chatter and conversation carried into the room.
Emily left me to my own devices. To my horror, people started to crowd me and ask me questions, firing them at me like darts. I was being felt out. I was being cross-examined. However, I saw no malice in my classmate’s words, no one tried to trip me up on my likes and dislikes; they were just normal people trying to get to know me.
For the first time in my life, I felt welcome in a room full of teenagers.
“Where are you from?” a blonde girl shot at me, her face eager and her eyes bright.
“New York”
“Ah, the big apple…why on earth did you move?” interrupted a short fat boy, before he sat himself on my desk.
“My dad just got a job at Bedford and Bremmer” Three mouths dropped at my a reply, I already knew that my dad was working at a prestigious law firm.
“What do you think of town?” the blonde girl continued, shooting a scathing look at the fat boy.
“Uh,” I hesitated “It’s really picturesque” I hurried, as I tried to avoid direct eye contact with any of them.
“Take your seats now please” sounded a strong, unyielding voice. It was Mr. Percival, a balding middle-aged man, dressed had to foot in tweed.
My classmates obeyed without question, a hushed silence descending into the room like a ghost.
Sitting at his desk, Mr. Percival pulled out a deep maroon file from his drawer, proceeding to a take a pencil from his inner pocket, he began to call names, as tired voices replied drone-line with the word ‘Present’.
“Tristan Lancaster?” Mr. Percival’s voice punctured every syllable in my name, a slight surprise in his voice that he had a new pupil.
“Present” I timidly replied, aware that all eyes in the room, asleep or not, were directed towards me.
The bell rang moronically into the room, a high-pitched scream emitting from a red metal disc on the wall. I knew in those seconds that I would have a headache by the end of the day. Oh joy - just what I need.

Today was Wednesday, my heart jumped when I realised English was first – my favourite subject.
Emily was already ushering me out of the classroom before I even had a chance to put my timetable away, chattering like a June bug once again.
The corridors were packed with students; I was being buffed left and right as Emily led me ardently to English.
The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunshine, which shone through the back wall that was a giant window of clear glass, looking out onto the sports field.
The sidewalls were bookcases that reached up to the ceiling; every inch of shelf taken up by a collection of leather bound tomes, the vast works of great literary minds stood before me and I couldn’t help but feel a note of respect.
The class rushed in, Emily shoved a blonde girl out of our way and sat me in a seat near the front.
As the class was still settling, I dug into my bag for the reading list and my books, “Othello” by William Shakespeare was at the top of the list, we had already covered this in detail at my old school, but I didn’t care. I enjoyed English more than any subject in the world, reading was an avid passion of mine, and the chance to sharply question and analyse works by writers never slipped past me.

A tall woman with auburn hair swept into the room, her hair flailing wildly behind her. Miss Murray was incredibly well structured, like a live teacher version of Jessica Rabbit, her waist was tiny, but her upper body size was far past that of an ordinary’s woman’s’. As soon as she entered the room, I felt every man except myself sit up in their chairs.
“Good morning class. Oh, you must be Tristan?” her voice was deep and feminine, much like the way she sauntered over to me.
“Yes, I am” I replied, fully aware that my face was turning red.
“I doubt you’ll need your books, you can have a grace period, I don’t expect you to be able to participate in the analysis this morning” she continued in earnest, it sounded patronising, but I could tell that she was trying to be friendly. “So if you would just like to take notes?” she suggested and I nodded obediently.
“Now, if you all did the reading, like I asked you to, you should have no trouble taking part in today’s discussion” she stated as she overlooked the class, her eyes were eager and searching. “Jealousy clearly is the tool that Iago uses to undo Othello. But what's his motivation? What reason does Iago give for destroying his superior officer?”
“Race?” came a confident, questioning voice from behind me.
“Good Nancy can't overlook race. Anyone else care to contribute?”
“Cassio has my place. Twix my sheets, he’s done my office. He was passed over for promotion. Cassio was picked instead and people were saying that Othello slept with his wife,” a manly, well-spoken voice with a slight English accent sounded from the back. Miss. Murray’s face lit up with satisfaction, nervously I put my hand up.
“Yes Tristan, is something wrong?” she enquired. Every head in the room turned to me, looking at me expectantly.
“Oh no, I just wanted to contribute” I replied, suddenly regretting putting my hand up.
“Oh” Miss. Murray said, looking stunned, “Well, if you think you can, by all means please do” she continued skeptically.
“Well, uh, he sort of admits himself that his motives are... spurious” I gulped, remembering how to breathe, “He, um, he does things because he…he enjoys them. It's like he's not, not really a person. He's like, the dark half of Othello himself.” I finished, taking a quick glance around the room. Everyone’s mouths were agape, feeling like a scolded child; I sank deep into my chair.
“Tristan, really, Very astute, please, feel free to contribute as much as you want” she complimented; causing me to glow slightly, it was clear to me I had not lost my knack for English.
The rest of the morning went blissfully well, discovering that I was ahead in all my subjects gave me the edge to impress all my teachers, a bit geeky, but it’s always better to have a teacher on side I concluded as I described in vivid detail Freud’s theory of psychosexual development.
I quickly began to adjust to being in a new school. Emily introduced me to her boyfriend Jake, who was about a foot taller than me, and promised to keep me company in Critical Thinking and he also promised Emily he wouldn’t let me slip over on the way there. A reputation for being a klutz already? I thought to myself, slightly embarrassed; Great

As Jake walked me to lunch, a knot of unfathomable nerves formed in my stomach, tightly twisting and stretching causing me to feel sick.
As we got to the lunchroom, Jake pulled me by the arm to the right and out of the side door, the sudden cold hit me like a train causing me to jump backwards and wind myself.
Hardly breathing I enquired, “What… are…we… doing?” I managed, before being able to catch my breath and stand upright once again.
“The gang never eats inside, we go to the quad” Jake replied before picking up my bag and handing to me. How polite.
“I’m not sure about breaking the rules on my first day”.
“We’re not. Its perfectly within the rules, we’re just the only people that eat there.” Jake replied, before once again starting to walk.
We turned the corner, before me stood four stone pillars being consumed with various plant life placed evenly on the corners of a square made of paving slabs. In the centre was a raised square which plaid host to a cherry blossom tree, unseasonably in full bloom.
Jake sat at the base of the tree, pulling his lunch out from his bag two hands entwined around him, before Emily popped her head around and kissed him softly on the lips. How sweet. How romantic.
“Trist, breaking the rules on your first day? Shame on you” Emily joked; I glared at Jake before sitting cross legged beside them.
“Dreadfully sorry I’m late” came a familiar voice, a manly, well-spoken voice which had the slightest tinge of English, “Had to stop in the Cafeteria for a salad.”
I turned my head, to address whoever was speaking to us. Standing before me was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, his features were handsome and well sculpted, and his skin was milky pale - just like mine. His hair was a deep black, lighter than mine, but still dark. It was cut stylishly just below his ears, layered, with no visible parting and stylish gel spikes which made him look slightly university student rather then High school student.
His body was slender, but his tight t-shirt revealed that he had muscles a Greek god would be proud to have. He towered high above me, standing at approximately 6ft 4” his mere presence oozed masculinity laced with careful elegance and grace.

“Oh, please excuse my lack of manners” he apologized, looking down at me, “I’m Nick. Nick Hobbs” he swept into a bow jokingly, locking eyes with me. Nick’s eyes were a pure emerald green, they caught me in their spell and held me for what seemed like hours, and to my horror…my face seemed to boil as I blushed, a deep crimson.[/quote]

ok first of all, Jesus Christ DreamWalker!!!!! WOW!!

Ok, on to the review!

The only two problems I had with the story is when you described Nick is that you used Greek God. And I may be stupidly picky and remember details of other books, but that is a description used in Twilight. Just saying!

The other one was at the beginning Tristian was doing the whole woe is me woe is me thing. And to a point repeating yourself about how she was friendless and how she doesn't want to be 'fake'. I generally like reading about characters who are a tiny bit bitter but also look forward in their lives.

But besides that i really liked it!! PM me when the next chapters up please!!

Hi Sorry it took me so long! Wow Dreamwalker has covered a lot I think she picked out a lot of the punctuation mistakes (something I am generally not that good at )So I'll focus on wording and overall I didn't get a chance to read through all that she wrote so sorry if I repeat anything!

my eyes wandered to the constant view I could see outside.

I thought this sounded a bit awkward, I'm not that keen on the word 'constant' and I don't think you need 'I could see'- maybe something like 'my eyes wandered to the view rushing past outside' or 'the unchanging view outside'

everyone’s problems were always more important than everyone else’s.

I think adding 'own' after 'everyone's' might allow the sentence to run a bit smoother.

Eventually, all the voices had collided and began to drone in my head, a monotone voice that wouldn’t stop.
I felt suffocated, stifled in my own head.

You repeat 'head' here, I'd maybe change one. For instance the second one could be 'stifled in my own body' or something like that.

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

When you say 'you wouldn't' it sounded a bit odd, I'd keep to 'I' here the ellipses needs to have three dots instead of two.

Mum smiled as we got out of the car, “Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?”

I'm not keen on using words that don't describe the movement like 'got' or 'placed', so here perhaps you could exchange 'got' for a word that shows the reader how they left the car- perhaps 'clambered' or something like that. After 'taking a moment' I'd add something else- taking a moment to what? Maybe something on absorbing the surroundings or take in the sight of their new home would be good. I think you could add in a couple of sentences maybe as they the transition from getting out of the car and entering the house is quite quick and I think could do with a little more time added to it.

The gardens were fairly extensive, rose bushes adorned the right side of the building, as ivy climbed up to the highest window and halfway across the manor.

I'm not sure about 'as ivy'- maybe 'and ivy'?

Janet had caused by leaving Berrystone and the manor was famous among our family.

I think 'among' should be 'amongst'.

Step one to fresh starts was to leave old fears behind.
Stepping into the house, I was welcomed by the smell of fresh fruit and lavender,

So you are not repeating 'step', maybe 'stepping' could be something like 'walking'.

our black leather chairs were placed to face each other and the 90” flat screen TV which was already placed just above the fireplace.

As I said before with 'got'- I don't really like the non descriptive words like 'placed', you repeat it here too so maybe changing one or both would be better. For instance the first once could be 'arranged' or the second one 'fixed'.

she had managed to secure a place in a five star restaurant in Canada so she was more than happy to make the move.
Good for her.

The thought here in italics seemed a bit out of place to me, I'd extend upon it to show his pleasure for his mothers achievement- maybe something like 'Well good for her. She deserves to be recognised for her abilities, even if it does mean starting all over again.' so you are including how it relates back to him too.

My jaw dropped and my breathing slowed as my surroundings gleamed in the soft afternoon sun, which was throwing itself through the window above the sink.

'which was throwing' sounded kind of tagged on the end here, I'd arrange the sentence a bit differently maybe so it reads smoother. Maybe something like 'as my surroundings gleamed in the soft afternoon sunlight spilling through the window above the sink.' so that it all runs on together

Lining the cutlery up on the marble counter ever so gracefully, they were my great grandmother’s.

This sentence doesn't quite make sense on its own, I think you need to reword it. Perhaps you could extend upon them being his great grandmothers- because of this does he take special care with them? Does he think back to her when arranging them? Something like 'I lined the cutlery up on the marble counter ever so gracefully- they had been my great grandmothers so I took special care when handling them.' could be better. I think you could play around with the sentence until you find something that works

I had always respected my dad; he carried the air of someone in charge, and someone in blissful control. A person who always saw the best of life, the beauty and absolute enchantment of the world.
How unfortunately naive, if ignorance was indeed bliss, my dad was an ecstatic man

I'm not sure about 'blissful control', I think something referring to the ease of his control would be more at place, like 'effortless control'. This would also save from repeating bliss as you use the word soon after. I'd maybe add something at the beginning of the second sentence to join it to the previous one as being in control and taking pleasure in life are two separate aspects, maybe something like 'He was also a person who' or 'Along with that, he was a person who' or just something that brings it more together.

my dad complimented, holding up a piece of bread and taking a sip of the blood red wine before him.

'blood red' I usually think is more at place in a description in a horror type of story, here it doesn't really have a place in making the comparison. Maybe something like 'deep red' would be better.

a warm smile crossing her lips as she took vast pleasure in making her family happy.

I think this sentence might run better without 'vast'.

“It’s going to be difficult, but we’ll adjust” my mum suggested, her voice betraying her statement,

At first you say 'suggested' but then refer back to it as a 'statement'- so maybe changing 'suggested' to something just like 'said' or perhaps saying something on how she attempts a firm tone.

I didn’t sleep well that night, the complex concoction of nerves and excitement kept me up reading until finally, in the still of night my body finally gave in, and let me fall into a difficult sleep.

I'd leave out one of the 'finally' here so you are not repeating it, I'd also maybe change on of the 'sleep' so you are not repeating it. Maybe 'slumber'?

This thought was soon squashed by my mind, which scolded like a teacher at my own weakness.

I'm not sure about saying the thought was squashed by your mind as the thought is from your mind maybe saying something like 'the more practical side of my mind' instead

I had never felt so nervous; it was so frustrating that I should be this petrified about a new school.

I'd leave out one of the 'so' so you are not repeating it.

It’s just a school; it’s just a school. The more I replayed my statement, the less I believed the sincerity of my own words.

I'd put 'Its just a school; It's just a school' into italics and I'm not sure about saying the 'sincerity of my own words' as as far as I can tell he hasn't said them out loud, maybe instead 'the sincerity of my own thoughts'?

The water seemed to hold me like a child, gently allowing my body to wake from its slumber by offering the promise of heat and comfort.
Running shampoo through my hair, the scent of peaches and strawberry’s filled the shower, making me smile gently.
The cool air stabbed at my skin, causing Goosebumps to spread like wildfire all over my body, grabbing a thick black towel and wrapping it round me, I stomped back to my room feeling sorry for myself. I loved the cold, but going from one extreme to another was an utter scandal.

I think you could add a sentence in between when he is in the shower and when the cold air hits him to make the transition smoother- perhaps just something on wishing he could stay there for longer but knowing that it wouldn't be the best idea, or sighing and pulling open the shower door.

The bus lost its speed as we approached the school, a medieval structure that looked more like an exquisitely large mansion, rather then a small town high school in Canada.

I'm not that keen on 'lost its speed' in this sentence, I think 'slowed down' or 'decreased its speed' might be better replacements, just my opinion though

half naked and dripping wet, the image of me kicked caution out of my mind and caused me to take a short cut. Stretching magical abilities inside myself caused me to be dry in seconds.

You repeat 'caused me' here, I'd change one as otherwise it sounds a bit repetitive. Perhaps the second one could be 'allowed me' or something like that.

I walked deliberately slow down the street - ice and snow greeted every step I took.

As he was rushing to get the bus before, I'd add something in about now feeling caution was the best option due to his slip or something like that to show that he doesn't want to risk falling again.

Gee, I thought to myself living in a small town’s gonna be fun.

I'd put the thoughts into italics as you have done before

Her smile was warm and welcoming, gently piercing her rosy cheeks.

Even though its 'gently piercing' it still doesn't seem right to me to say 'piercing', it's just not a very soft word. Something like 'dimpling' might fit in with the rest of the sentence better.

Emily kept probing me about where I used to live, what I do for fun and she filled me in on the entire goings on at the school.

I know 'what I do' works here but I think 'What I did' might sound better, I'd change this sentence a bit by adding 'and' between 'live' and 'what' and maybe having 'and she filled me in' as 'whilst she filled me in'. This is because otherwise 'and she filled me in' sounds a bit like it is included in what she is probing him on but it is a separate action with her talking, so perhaps having her doing it whilst probing him would make more sense

A quiet elegance surrounded the whole building, a maturity and freedom that was lost among normal high schools, education was taken very seriously here.

As he does not know for sure that it is the case that education was taken seriously, maybe something to show that that is what he thinks from what he can see, like 'clearly' before 'education was taken' or 'I could see'.

Emily dragged me through the students, dodging and weaving as she led me up the front lawn and across the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of a fountain and a hedge before I was being dragged into the building.
It was bewitching.

You repeat dragged a couple of times here and also before, so I'd maybe change one or both of them here. 'pulled/tugged/towed/yanked/lugged' are all possible replacements

However, I saw no malice in my classmate’s words,

You wouldn't see the malice as it's in their words so maybe 'detected'?

“What do you think of town?” the blonde girl continued, shooting a scathing look at the fat boy.
“Uh,” I hesitated “It’s really picturesque” I hurried, as I tried to avoid direct eye contact with any of them.

I'm not really sure why he is so uncomfortable in this bit as he didn't seem as much before, I think you could explain a bit more- is it because he doesn't like the town or because he didn't want to say the wrong thing?

It was Mr. Percival, a balding middle-aged man, dressed had to foot in tweed.

'had' should be 'head' here.

The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunshine, which shone through the back wall that was a giant window of clear glass, looking out onto the sports field.

The 'which' part here sounded kind of tagged on the end again to me. I'd maybe fix this by leaving out 'which' and replacing 'shone' with 'shining in', perhaps changing 'looking' to 'that looked' as well and seperating 'that was a giant window of clear glass' by replacing 'that was' with a dash or something similar. So you are not repeating 'shine' you could either change 'sunshine' to 'sunlight' of 'shining' to something else like 'tumbling' or 'spilling'. So all in all something like this- 'The classroom was bathed in perfect golden sunlight shining in through the back wall- a giant window of clear glass that looked out onto the sports field.'

but her upper body size was far past that of an ordinary’s woman’s’.

I think this should just be 'ordinary woman's.' I am really not very good at punctuation though so I'm not completely sure on where the ' should go

Good Nancy can't overlook race. Anyone else care to contribute?”

I'd add a comma after Nancy and add 'we' after it.

As Jake walked me to lunch, a knot of unfathomable nerves formed in my stomach, tightly twisting and stretching causing me to feel sick.
As we got to the lunchroom, Jake pulled me by the arm to the right and out of the side door, the sudden cold hit me like a train causing me to jump backwards and wind myself.

You repeat 'causing me' here, I'd maybe change one so perhaps the second one could be left out by changing the sentence to something like 'the sudden cold hit me and I jumped backwards, winding myself.'

Jake replied before picking up my bag and handing to me. How polite.

I think you need 'it' after 'handing' and you could always add 'back' before 'to me' As 'how polite' is a thought I'd maybe put it into italics as well.

How sweet. How romantic.

As this is what he is thinking I'd also put this into italics.

Overall: I think this was actually amazingly written, I really enjoyed it and the story line was refreshingly unique! You certainly have talent in the way you worded this. I agree with Dream walker though in that there are quite a few punctuation mistakes, I think you need to work on that area. I also noticed that you repeated some words quite a bit, this can easily be solved by just scanning back through your work and coming up with replacements

The storyline was great as I have just mentioned What I do think could be added to though would be the whole witch part of the story. It completely took me by surprise in the story (the only hint being the title which I had forgotten ) and I think you could add more hints throughout your writing to lead up to it a bit more. Something about having to hide a side to him or having difficulty controlling certain aspects of himself would all add to the curiosity the reader is feeling. I'd also mention it more afterwards as after the scene it is kind of left and forgotten about, maybe some more thoughts whilst he is at school on how he wished he could do something using his powers or thinking back over what his parents had said about keeping things secret would always keep the witch aspect to the story in mind

I think you could also maybe add a bit more to his thoughts and feelings. The description is brilliant but I think it would add a lot more to the story if you added some more thoughts in italics to show his uncertainty in situations and worries and things like that. As I have mentioned throughout the nitpicks, I'd put all thoughts into italics too

I loved this story, I really did and it was definitely worth reading through- I hope you post more! Could you PM me if you do? All my comments are just suggestions so you can ignore them if you want Hope I've helped! *Star*

Thank you all so far for your reviews, its nice to know that people really like my work and are enjoying it.

Just a side point....all of Tristan's thoughts were originally in italics, but when i posted it over to here, i forgot to add some of them back into italics using the button thingy. I'll remember for next time though

Those who have reviewed, will be getting a PM from me, thanking for the review with additional comments and news on new chapters.

Hello! Music is finally here as requested! I'm so sorry this took so long.

Oh dear! Everyone seems to have covered the grammar & line-by-line, so I'll skip that!


Language Usage & Writing Style: Ryan, I think your writing is wonderful! Your descriptions are your strongest point. I think that you need to work on your dialogue just a bit, because some of it felt forced, unnecessary, and unrealistic. Make sure- even if this is a fantasy- that the people would say these things realistically. The dialogue should be natural.


Imagery & Emotion: I think that your imagery is wonderful, but you need to be careful to avoid info dumps.
Emotion. I think that improving your dialogue would help, and make sure to include enough body language. Be sure that the thoughts are in italics.


Characters: I thought you could have developed the parents' personalities just a bit more. I think that Tristan & Annabelle were pretty well explained, as was Emily. The two boys will be better developed later.
I think the fact that Tristan is gay is a nice twist. I don't see enough books with gay MC's. I'm really hoping that Nick is, too! Hah.
Anyway, I think using dialogue and body language effectively will help round out your characters.


Plot & Storyline: I thought you dragged it out a bit, and I feel that you should have included a bit more about the magic. Magic is crucial to your story if it is a fantasy, so you need to be sure to include your MC's feelings on it, etc. As long as you include that and don't let the story dote on something that isn't really important, you'll do great.


Overall, I thought it was a good piece. I'd like to see more on Tristan's magic and sexuality (does anyone know, how does his family feel) in future parts. With some revising, you'll do wonderfully!


PM me with any questions! So sorry this took so long, and so sorry it's short!


Love,
Music

Here as requested!

And, unfortunately, I could only critique a small portion of this because of how much time this review took. It would be easier if you posted it in short sections. About 1,500 words per story segment.

Annabelle’s car bumped and slid along the country road. The wind and rain outside beat steadily against the windows, like the sound of an army marching itself toward death.

Line one here made me think this was a third person story, with Annabelle as the MC. I also found it didn't have much to drag me into the story. Line two would be a much better hook, with the mention of rain. You can introduce everything later, once you've gotten a good hook. ^_^ Check out this article for some more tips on beginnings.

Brilliant. Just Brilliant.

What is he thinking this about? The rain? The car ride? Tell us please. ^_^

as my pale fingers danced across the page I was reading, something about a man named Darcy. I wasn’t paying attention. I’d read the book numerous times before.

Nice characterization here! It gives us a glimpse into your MC's personality, and what he likes when it comes to books and how much time he spends reading them. Very nice work!

Closing the book and stuffing it into my bag,

Where was his bag?

Lots of tree’s.

"Trees."

Moving to Canada was my Dad’s idea, instead of commuting between here and New York, we could move up here permanently.

~ "Dad" should be lowercase here, since there is "my" in front of it. If you were to delete the "my" it would be alright capped though.

~ Why would they be commuting from New York to Canada?

The town I was moving to really was quite pleasant when looked at retrospectively, the small town of Berrystone is located in Ontario, Canada.

What's the reality?

With 3,500 citizens, it was the idyllic setting for my parent’s to set firm roots and for me to come into my own…apparently.

~ "Parents"

~ The characterization here is okay. I would like a bit more info on him coming into his own.

I was a tough nut to crack, but eventually I succumbed.

In my opinion, this is pretty unrealistic. People don't usually think of themselves as being "tough nuts to crack."

Instead, why not tell us how he resisted? Then the second part of the sentence (after the "but") would make more sense. ^_^

I loathed it all, a melancholy approach some would say, but I had never felt truly right in New York, even though I was born there.

~ I would replace the comma after "all" with a period.

~ You give us what he doesn't like, but how about giving us more of what he does like? Then we have a benchmark for your MC.

I’m quiet. I like being alone and I like being isolated and kept in peace.

Instead of telling us what he likes, which in this case sounds rather unrealistic, show us what he likes. It would take more time, but it would give us more characterization on your MC. ^_^

Eventually, all the voices had collided and began to drone in my head, a monotone voice that wouldn’t stop.

First you say it's several voices, then you say it's one voice. Hmm, I think you're missing a transition between the two, since that's a pretty good description otherwise.

I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’.

I don't really like seeing quotes in prose. If you leave them out, you can convey more. But if you want to explain it out, you have to do that. ^_^

I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.
Could I learn to live with it? Yes

And after reading this, I think you have to explain the whole thing about being 'fake' a bit more.

However I find it interesting that you capped "fake." It makes me think something more is to come, and that "fake" is more an adjective, not a noun. Nice work!

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

The caps here seem a bit... extreme. We don't know why he would be so upset at being a 'fake' (whatever that is), and we don't know just how alone he had been in order to understand this thought.

I had matured years before they had, it wasn’t their fault.

Semicolon instead of a comma. ^_^

Their rich families had dragged them up that way, I may have accepted it, even grown to understand it, but I would never, ever be a part of it.

~ This is a dangerous stereotype to make. Some people who are rich don't think like that, while other families who aren't rich do think like that.

~ In all of this, you have said what the MC thinks of the "outside" world, ie- the world he is so disheartened with, but you haven't explained why your MC is thinking this way, nor have you given the MC situation. It is very hard to get into the MC's head if we don't have a background on him. ^_^

Real friends - the kind you can spend time with, trust implicitly, the kind that make you feel normal, the kind that don’t see you as a freak.

A nice mention of what's going on, but I would like a bit more of why he's considered a freak earlier on.

I had only ever had two friends, my cat…and Dante – the longest of long stories.

With the mention of a long story, we don't really know who the story is referring too (the cat or the friend) and it also makes you expect the next paragraph to be the story. When it's not, I, at least, did a double-take.

The car jerked to a stop, not wearing my seat belt I jerked forwards spilling coke down my white shirt.

~ Period instead of a comma. ^_^

~ Why was he not wearing his seat-belt?

This whole situation was tap dancing on my last nerve; I had always been clumsy, from dropping a plate to falling down the stairs. I’d done it all.

~ I loved the "tap dancing on my last nerve" bit. It gives us some nice characterization here, and it's a cute saying. ^_^

~ You give one part of the situation, but I don't feel you give the whole situation. Is it just clumsiness, or is it the whole move? Because right now I feel the only thing that's on his last nerve is clumsiness.

“Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?”

Your dialogue punctuation is a bit off here. Try this article about punctuation and dialogue.

she led my sister up the stone steps and through the solid oak doors to the manor. The stone and wood structure stood three floors tall, not including the turret, my bedroom.
The gardens were fairly extensive, rose bushes adorned the right side of the building, as ivy climbed up to the highest window and halfway across the manor. The back garden played host to an apple tree and a couple of pine tree’s; which towered protectively over the building. Despite how foreboding the structure was, my heart began to ease.

~ Bolded word- "Trees"

~ This is a rather flat description. Yes, it's pretty and there are lots of details, but why do we care? The only thing that ties the house into the MC is the bedroom mention.

The thing about descriptions that symbolize things is, the language has to reflect what it's symbolizing. If this house is a clean start, emphasise how clean everything is, how white, how pure, ect. Then the house becomes a symbol, instead of just something that is described.

~

Punctuation: It can be a bit off in some places. I would check out this article for some tips.

Description: Later on in the chapter, (I read all of chapter 1), you give a lot of "info dump" descriptions. What I mean by that is you simply list what the house looks like and don't really give us any tie-in to the MC. Descriptions, to be effective, should have some advancement to the story. If you can cut your description and not loose anything plot or character wise, then you should re-write the description or simply leave it out. Your story will be better off because of it. ^_^

You did a good job with the weather though. At the beginning it's raining "like an army marching to its own death." That really reflects how your MC feels about things. And when the weather clears, that also reflects on how you MC is feeling. Good job there!

Characters: I don't see much characterization on people here. I would suggest naming your MC earlier, so we know his gender. I would also put more of his initial situation. He's got some opinions on people and cities, but we don't really get how or why he got those opinions.

It is also unclear just how controlled he is, and if it's his own personality or some curse. Like when you mention how he swallows an independent thought. Why would he do that? The whole thing is puzzling to me.

When it comes to the other characters, come the end of chapter 1 they were described in an okay sense. The sister's love of magic is rather apparent, as is your MC's, but the parents are just as clear on the topic. However, that is just about the only thing they are clear on. Their other standings, like the move, the city, the old house, those are unclear. If they're going to be put in later, great! But make sure you flesh them out come page, hmm, I'd say 20. Then things will really flow. ^_^

Overall: I believe I have left you will enough to go on in this review ^_^ Unfortunately, because I am rather busy this week, I can only do a certain amount for each request I get, and I will not be able to review the remainder of your request. I think I have given you enough information to go on in this review, and I hope you take my advice for this chapter and future chapters. ^_^

Questions? PM me.

~Rosey

Ok, so here I am for the review you asked for. Sorry for the wait!

First opinion, I would put up the chapters seperately. It's more intimidating for people to have to read all that in one post.

Annabelle’s car bumped and slid along the country road. The wind and rain outside beat steadily against the windows, like the sound of an army marching itself toward death. Brilliant. Just Brilliant. My jet black hair hung loosely at my shoulders

This was confusing because I thought that Anabelle was the MC and then it changed to first person. I would suggest changing that to something. I'm not sure what, though.

Closing the book and stuffing it into my bag, my eyes wandered to the constant view I could see outside. Lots of tree’s.

Should be "trees" without the apostrophe.

I didn’t mind, in fact, forests and hidden places appealed to me greatly.

"I didn't mind" should be separated by either a period or sei-colon, not a comma.

I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’.

It seems a bit strange to put fake in quotes.

I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.

Could I learn to live with it? Yes

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..

Again, the fake in quotes thing is weird. And the "f" should be lower case. Also, the whole question and answer thing sounds strange. Does your character really talk to herself? AND after maybe should have either three periods or one. Two doesn't mean anything.

I had matured years before they had, it wasn’t their fault.

Period or semi-colon, not comma.

Their rich families had dragged them up that way, I may have accepted it, even grown to understand it, but I would never, ever be a part of it.

Period after "way".

My self imposed isolation had worked for me so far, but I was growing tired of being alone.

"Self-imposed" would be better, I think.

The back garden played host to an apple tree and a couple of pine tree’s; which towered protectively over the building.

No apostrphe in trees and the semi-colon should be a comma.

*With apostrophes, just remember that you only need them when there's a contraction or when there's possesion. Almost never when you're making something plural.

*With semi-colons, only use them when you're connecting two full sentences that are closely related, or when you're listing things that have commas. For example: "I went to Miami, Florida; New York, New York; and Forks, Washington." OR "I went to the store; they were all out of cheese." (Sorry for the stupid examples.)

Sorry, I'm out of time right now, but I'll finish when I get the chance.

Okay. Well, it looks like you have the grammar covered by Pippiedooda and Dreamwalker, so I'll skip that and try to give you the best review I can on your characters, setting, writing technique, readability, believability, favourite scene, what you did right, worst scene and what you did wrong! Lets get started then!

First off, I would suggest that you:
Split that chapters. They are bunched together and look really daunting to a reader. Imagine if I gave you a book, told you you had to read the first 100 pages, and then read the rest in one hundred page segments all at once! You wouldn't be able to read it when you wanted to, and you'd start to dread it, because you have to read 100 pages!
I would also suggest that you put each individual chapters in two posts. This is for the same reason, but you'll also get a better review because the critique's can focus on small aspects and tell you what to change, when as you have it now, you just get an over-view and vague comments on characters!

Okay... here I go!

something about a man named Darcy. I wasn’t paying attention. I’d read the book numerous times before.
If you have read the book before, then you wouldn't comment on a man named Darcy, because you know the man, and you know what he was doing. I would suggest you change this to:
Darcy was [INSERT ACTION] for the hundredth time. I'd read it all before.

***

I didn’t mind, in fact, forests and hidden places appealed to me greatly.
Should be:
I didn't mind. In fact, forests and hidden places appealed to me greatly.
You just have to watch your grammar there, I think that's how it should be anyway!

***

my parent’s to set firm roots and for me to come into my own…apparently.
Should be plant my own; you don't come into roots!

***

I loathed it all
I don't think you should use loath here. You've already used it in the paragraph, and although I see what you're trying to do, despise might work better!

***

a monotone voice that wouldn’t stop.
I think it should be:
A monotonous hum [or equivalent] that just wouldn't stop.
The sentence has more personal voice that way - and you want that i first person. It also flows better with the changed 'monotone'. Another thing you do is try and put fancy words there, I do it all the time, but you should always look at the alternatives and check to see if they work better.

***

I felt suffocated, stifled in my own head. I was a freak. I am a freak. I had never fit in with people, and after a few years, I just simply gave up. I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’.

I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.

Could I learn to live with it? Yes

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..


Okay, first, you have many problems here... I know i said I wouldn't go into grammar, but...

I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I didn’t want to be a ‘fake’. Here, I think that it work better is you said:
I refused to try and pretended to be someone I wasn’t – I refused to be a ‘fake’.
That's just because you say 'refused' in the first sentence, and then you calm down and say 'don't want'. This is bad, because you want this to sound like an argument - as if you were saying it out load, and shouting at your parents, except in your head, and past tense.
Also, if you will divert your attention to the 'try and pretend to be'.
This isn't good, because you weaken the argument. I think you should just make it 'refused to pretend to be'. Besides, if you refuse to try, then it sound like you never have tried, or you failed, and that's why you don't try... does that make sense?

I allowed part of my mind to wander to the possibility of being a ‘Fake’ – Would it have been so bad? Of course it would.
Notice how you capitalized ''Fake''? You haven't in your first sentence, and that's just annoying Stick with one of them... sure that was just a mistake though!

Would I sacrifice my self-respect for friends? NO! OF COURSE YOU WOULDN’T! Well, maybe..
Read it over - you start in first person, and then (in your thoughts, I might add) you swap to third. I get what you mean, and you usually talk to yourself as if you were saying 'you' and 'Rebbecca'. know... I would probably use this too, but it does sound off if you read it over. Decide what you like though... that was just a suggestion.
Also, notice the ellipse at the end [or I should call it a double dot] Just a small mistake, but an off putting one at that!

***

The harsh reality that the greatest piece of knowledge people my age could acquire was that of which celebrity was sleeping with whom, and how many times a certain pop star had had his nose under the knife gave me small comfort.
Yeah... wait, what? Break it up, and the reader can digest it in small gulps! I had to read it word by word to understand, you you don't want that, do you? It disrupts the flow of your story!

***

I had matured years before they had, it wasn’t their fault. Yeah... I know what you mean! Some people can be really superficial... like the bozos who do their nails every day and take half an hour in the shower, shaving and doing their hair! [Yup... that's my sister]

***

I had only ever had two friends, my cat…and Dante – the longest of long stories. I would suggest that you put the authors name in there instead of the book - Just my opinion though

***

Mum smiled as we got out of the car, “Here we are” taking a moment, she spoke again “Well, no use standing out here is there?”

Okay... that should be:
Mum smiled as we got out of the car.
“Here we are,” she paused for a moment, then spoke again. “Well, no use standing out here is there?”
I'd just watch the language grammar if I were you!

***

not including the turret, my bedroom.
change the comma here to a semi-colon [;]

***

tree’s
Not sure, but I think the apostrophe should go at the end of the word, not before the 's'. Oh no... here coms a dispute about apostrophes... why can't they just make a universal rule for them?

***

I have to go, But I'll be back tomorrow and review the next chapter - and do a more in - depth analysis of the characters you have here, the scene - all that stuff I mentioned at the beginning!

Thanks for the reviews everyone, and i look forward to the updated versions.

as a point....Tristan is a BOY, i realise this issue is a review in itself...as in i have to go back and make it clearer to the reader.

Here you are, as asked for. It seems as if people have beat me to the grammar issues, so I'll just tell you my overall thoughts about this~

Plot:
The plot was great. I loved how you didn't mention the fact that her family was a group of witches until when you did. It was a good twist. I don't have much else to say, as these were only the first two chapters.

Characters:
I think that you could build up the characters even more than you did. The main character, from all that I got now, seems sarcastic, cynical and not someone who I'd empathize with. You need to pack more personality around her besides the occasional sarcastic remark. I take it she's one of the main characters, so good form is vital. The rest of the characters, the more secondary ones, do have a similar issue, so overall, just build your characters a bit more.

I think that's all I can comment on as others have beaten me to a full fledged review. This was beautiful though, it had personality and feeling. Good job.

Peace, Love and Sugar Packets~
Forever Threnody

Okay... I'm back!

Characters:

You say that Tristan is a boy... I really had no idea! You need to make it obvious, spout some names of his friends, or, if he doesn't have any, then get his dad, or whoever was driving the car to call him son, or boy. Get his sister to go "Younger Brother" in a stuck-up tone... give us some major hints. I would have gone through this entire story thinking he was a girl until you posted that... good to see that you'll be going back!


Setting:

So far, the setting is the house, the car. I think that you have that pretty well done. I could picture the trees as they flew by, and imagined myself there... not too much to say about that. I might suggest that you describe his first view of the house a bit more clearly, because i couldn't really picture it. You could compare it to the 'olden day Victorian houses. You know, the ones with a sliding banister the whole way through, and roofs as high as 5 people."

Writing Technique:
It's good. As I said before, you have a tendency to over-compensate the variable possibilities, and utilize generously proportioned literary devices that bamboozle the assessor and infuriate all and sundry besides - yes... I did need some help from a thesaurus for that!
Anyways, my point being, You can confuse people if you use words too long, or if you use a word that doesn't fit! Just try and use descriptive words, like you do now, but not to over-do it!

Readability:
Yes... I could read it and it wasn't too confusing. I don't think that you got lost in descriptions anywhere, or over did it. I think you can produce some very readable work!

One thing I didn't like was this part:
I bit my tongue, just like I was trained to do. Swallowing my latest independent thought I secretly swore to myself that it would have centre stage, it would be expressed, I would not surrender every part of myself. I needed to wait for my moment, in which my thoughts would be listened to, perhaps even accepted?
You mind of lost me there!

Believability:
Hmmm... not really. I just don't buy into that magic and stuff. I think you spring it on us a little too quick, and I wasn't really ready. Then again, you are a boy in a family full of witches! I suppose it was a good thing the way you sprung it on us, making it seem commonplace. I would personally prefer it if you gave us hints throughout, and sprung it on us in the 3/4Th chapter... just me?

Favourite scene:

Didn't really have one. I wasn't enticed by your work, but it kept me entertained. You have a good balance of description throughout the piece, but I find that I can't exactly imagine the characters... I can't do that with anything though! I've always sucked at art!

Least favourite scene:
Didn't have one of these either. The whole piece was balanced out for me. i didn't read through a part where I got really bored, confused, or started to gouge at my eyes for lack of good work! Ka-Pai!

Okay, back for review No. 2!

First of all, some general comments as I read through...

You over-do the description in the first couple of paragraphs, just a little to much. I wonder what age group you aim this at?

You can't use magic in your own home? When there is no-one looking? Who lives in this town? A hoard of which hunters? You might want to explain about 'Him' finding out where you live... who he is and what he would do. I take it this is a Harry-Potter-Esq type of thing, where someone can track where you use magic and use it to find you... then kill you?

14 sugars... that's a whole cup! I can't believe what a fatty of a character you have! 14 sugars... Tsk Tsk!

Stretching magical abilities inside myself caused me to be dry in seconds. Uhhh... What? expand on this please... I want to know what happened. This is the first time we see him use magic, and you give it a sentence?

Kettle of fish? never heard of that before? What country does it originate from?

I don't get the end... What was so good about Nick? Why was he blushing when he looked at him? You need to explain if he was some sort of which... We don't know these things!

My general comments were the same as last time really... no fave/least fave scenes... you go a little overboard on the descriptions, and I overall liked it... looking forward to reading the next chapter!
One thing i would advise you on (again) is to post your chapters in separate parts, and that just makes it easier to read! You also don't end up with 2 pages, and some reviewers leaving because you have too many already done!
One last thing - don't post too many comments in the review for food column... it annoys people if you ask them for a review and you already have 5-10 reviews posted! that would deter most people!

Hi, Wic. Found your post in my Will Review for Food thread, so here I am. This is an interesting start to a novel, and I will review the next part in the next day or two to see where you go with it. I've got a few nit-picks, as always with my reviews.

The first thing is the length. You didn't really need to post the two chapters together, as they're both long enough to warrant their own post. Remember that people are a lot more likely to review something that's shorter, so posting the individual chapters already gives you a greater chance of improving the story. I've seen people recommend 1500 words as the longest a story post should be on here, if you want to get the maximum amount of reviews.

Lots of tree’s.

You don't need the apostrophe. You do this in a few places, and maybe a little with the word "students," if I remember correctly.

The town I was moving to really was quite pleasant when looked at retrospectively, the small town of Berrystone is located in Ontario, Canada. With 3,500 citizens, it was the idyllic setting for my parent’s to set firm roots and for me to come into my own…apparently.

This paragraph is two sentences. It could be at least three, or the flow seems a bit off. Also, I don't like the use of ellipses in stories. They come off as tacky, for the most part.

“You’ll love it there” my mum said to me

This sentence is a bit off, grammatically. It needs a comma before the speech marks end, like: "You'll love it there," my mum said to me.

I may give you a rough overview instead, as it seems like people have already given you an in-depth look at what you need to do. It'll be more of a help if I guide you and you decide what specific things to change, because you'll learn how to edit more efficiently in the future. Here are the main things you could make better:

Showing
Near the beginning in particular, you tell instead of show. You state things which the reader could probably learn a bit later without losing much from the story. Instead of stating things, show them through the characters' actions and dialogue. It isn't so bad in first person, but it still comes across as an info dump in this story. For example:

I was a tough nut to crack, but eventually I succumbed. I had grown to loathe New York; the unavoidable traffic, disgusting manners, the school I went to, the people I grew up with. I loathed it all, a melancholy approach some would say, but I had never felt truly right in New York, even though I was born there. I’m quiet. I like being alone and I like being isolated and kept in peace.

Info dumps like this come across as rather lazy, as though you can't be bothered showing the reader. Instead of throwing all of this at us easy in the story, try to feed it to your reader, bit by bit. Remember that we don't need to know every right away. Control what your reader knows, and unveil it at a time where it will surprise them. Your story could be better for it.

Sentence Structure
Your sentences can be rambling and hard to follow. By the time some of them ended, I forgot what the point of them was. Remember: periods are your friend! Try speaking it out loud if you're unsure. You'll know if it's off, but to help a little: you have far too many commas, and not enough periods.

Punctuation
The comma abuse was mentioned just above, but sometimes you don't put them where they need to go, usually with dialogue. Remember these two things:
1) Dialogue is needed before names: "Can you go to the shop for me, Jenny?"
2)You need it to end dialogue, if the sentence continues: "Get out," he said.
If you remember those two things, I think you'll be fine.

Adverbs
This lecture, I give in every review. You're not as bad as some offenders, but you can still make some improvements. I'll assume that you know what they are, but if not, they're words that describe verbs, like, "I walked quickly." Usually (yes, I see the hypocrisy, but they're a little more acceptable outside of fiction) they're unnecessary, though. For the most part, fiction is better off without them. A more skilled writer can make it clear what they mean without adverbs, which are another form of telling, really.

Dialogue Tags
Remember that "said" is the best thing to have after dialogue, if anything at all. Tags like "complimented," "apologised" and "smiled" are more telling, and they can be quite grating. The reader doesn't like to be told these things, especially if they can be assumed from the preceding sentence.

Now, the criticism's out of the way. Like I said, I did enjoy reading this, even if it is quite different to what I normally look at. I'm intrigued to see where you go with the plot, as there are a number of directions you could take this. I'll get onto the next part sometime soon.

Well, that's all I'll say. Sorry if I've been a bit harsh. PM me if you have any questions or want me to clarify someone. I'll be glad to help out with anything you need.

-Mat