Wounded. 3

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Baddabing, baddaboom I need some inspiration! I'm on Chapter... sixteen? Yeah, Chapter sixteen in word. Holler! I was on Chapter 24 with the first copy of this before it was deleted but then again, my chapters were like ten pages long then. Now they're like two, hah. So, I'm not even close to where I was before - but hey I'm working there. I need so inspiration like madddd, like fo'real. It's been a WHILE since I've written and even though I know this story from beginning to end like the back of my hand, I'm just not in the mood to write anymore! Hopefully, some good critiques and some harsh criticism to make this so much better will make me want to write/post/review more. :D

Chapter Three.

“Hello, again.” He breathed, “Nice of you to scare the shit out of our nurses when you’re missing from bed.”

“You never told me I wasn’t aloud to leave the bed!” Nichole snapped, rubbing her wet hair. At least she was clean.

“I never told you anything.” Seth leaned back in the chair, Nichole’s file on his lap.

“Exactly.” She huffed, rolling her eyes. This boy was getting on her last nerve and she wanted him to leave.

“Let’s see…” Seth opened her file, “A car accident right outside the city, in the wrong lane… broken ribs, mother’s in critical condition…” Seth mumbled a little loud as he read the report.
Nichole didn’t know if it was on purpose to be reading her accident out loud, but it was so hurtful to her she wanted to scream at him. “Can you please not read out loud?” She asked as nicely as she could.

“It’s how I read.” Seth responded, still looking over the file.

“Well, I’d rather not hear of the accident.” Nichole was losing her patients with this boy.

“Well that’s not my problem, is it?” Seth looked up at her with his gray eyes that were coated in black. ’What a freak’ Nichole thought.

“Shouldn’t it be a part of the dress code not to wear makeup to work?” Nichole spat ‘makeup’ as if he was a girl. Men shouldn’t be wearing pounds of eyeliner.

“I’m an assistant - and I don’t follow rules.” He flopped the file down on the counter.

“Well aren’t you Mr. Bad-ass.” Nichole retorted, getting fed up with his uncalled for rudeness. Dr. Michaels entered the room before Seth could respond. He was out in an instant.

“You two get along?” Dr. Michaels smiled, picking up Nichole’s file and dropping it in a bin at the end of her bed.

“Is he rude to everyone?” Nichole asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Pretty much,” the doctor smiled, “Should have seen how he reacted when he found out I was going to be his father. That boy sure does make a scene.”

“He’s ridiculous.” She yawned, tired already.

“Well, anyways,” He changed the subject, resting his big hands on the edge of her bed. Dr. Michaels was a very tall man with short brown hair graying at the sideburns. He had a large nose, black rimmed glasses and thin-lined lips. “It’s time for an x-ray. Hope you won’t mind Sethus joining us.”
“Sethus?” she asked, stepping out of bed.

“His full name - are you okay to walk? I’d rather you be put into a wheelchair.” Dr. Michaels suggested, pulling one out from behind the counter.

“No I’m okay. I’d rather walk.” Nichole said, stretching as much as she could without hurting her ribs.

“Nichole, I’d rather you be in a wheelchair.” The doctor lightly pushed Nichole into one and started pushing. She felt so weak in one of them The doctor wheeled Nichole into a room with a big machine, a scary big machine that had a window next to it. Dr. Michaels laid her down on the black cushioned bed that soon entered a tunnel type machine. She heard the doctors instructions on keeping her eyes closed and to relax. Four loud bangs went off, causing Nichole to jump but she remained calm. She felt the bed start to move and kept reminding herself not to open until she got the ‘okay’.

“Smarty, it’s over.” Seth called out and Nichole blinked open, staring into the ceiling lights.

“I got that.” Nichole’s voice was husky as she raised herself on her elbows.

“Please don’t do that - it may cause more injury to your ribs.” Seth’s step-father requested and Nichole instantly flopped back down on the bed. She heard Seth chuckle and tightened her fists into balls to control her short anger. “You can come in here, Nichole.” Dr. Michaels called out.

Nichole entered the room where Seth sat with a bored expression on his face and Dr. Michaels printing out the x-rays. He held the four pictures up in front of a lit up board. You could easily see the break which Nichole shuttered, not liking the fact that something was wrong with her.

“Is that bad?” She asked.

“No, it’s perfectly fine.” Seth sarcastically called out from behind her, messing with the jaw string on his sweatshirt.

“Sethus…” Dr. Michaels scolded his son, “Be polite. Nichole the break actually isn’t that bad, you could even be released tomorrow.”

“Without my Mom? When, by the way, will I be able to see her?” Nichole’s brown haired mother may be an alcoholic and just possibly be the only other person to get under her skin - but she loved her. That women taught her the ABC’s, sang songs in the car with her, took her to her first lacrosse practice, even taught her how to ride a bicycle the day after her father left. She was her hero down beneath, and to know she was in critical condition pained her.

“You’re mother’s in a coma. It wouldn’t do anything to see her.” Seth butted in. Nichole felt her eyes sting and her heart rage.

“Out. Now.” His step father commanded, pointing to the door. After Seth left, Dr. Michaels explained to her.

“She is still in a coma, Nichole. You may see her as you please, though.” The doctor smiled as he lead Nichole back to her room. “About going home without your mother - don’t you have another parent at home?”

Nichole thought about lying, telling him there was just so she could have the house to herself to invite her two best friends, Alex and Felicia, over but she thought better than that.

“Actually, my mom’s the only adult. Just me and her. My father lives in Florida with his other family.”

“Do you have a close relative nearby you could stay with?” Dr. Michael’s asked.

“No. I have friends though.” Nichole hoped he would allow her to stay with them, but he declined that idea.

“Looks like you have to stay here, sweetheart.” Dr. Michaels lead Nichole into a new floor called the rehabilitation center. It was strictly for resting. He thought it’d be the best idea since it had a lounge area, a cafeteria and a room with a TV.

“I have a roommate?” Nichole noticed the other bed.

“No, there’s just another bed.” He explained.

“What about clothes? Can I get my clothes?” Nichole pleaded, uncomfortable with the gown she was in.

“You cannot leave, Nichole. How about one of your friends come drop some off when they visit, would that work?” He suggested, then closed the door behind her.
A little less inhuman.
A little more brutal.
Let the blood be your drug.




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Hiya, Oliv, I'm here to review this piece of work that looks a little lonely (: . So, here goes, I hope this helps you out!! =D
[?] = I've put/added something in I'm not too sure about.

day tripper wrote:Chapter Three.

“Hello, again,he [try not to start off a chapter using a pronoun instead of the character's actual name. It will just look a whole lot better if you use his name at the start =D] breathed, “Nice of you to scare the shit out of our nurses when you’re missing from bed.”

“You never told me I wasn’t [s]aloud[/s] allowed to leave the bed!” Nichole snapped, rubbing her wet hair. At least she was finally [?] clean .

“I never told you anything.” Seth leaned back in the chair, Nichole’s file on his lap.

“Exactly,she huffed, rolling her eyes. This boy was getting on her last nerve and she wanted him to leave.

“Let’s see…” Seth opened her file, “A car accident right outside the city, in the wrong lane… broken ribs, mother’s in critical condition…” Seth mumbled a little loud [this reads awkwardly, so try rephrasing it]as he read the report.
Nichole didn’t know if it was on purpose to be reading her accident out loud [this doesn't make sense, try rephrasing], but it was so hurtful to her she wanted to scream at him. “Can you please not read it out loud?” she asked as nicely as she could.

“It’s how I read,” Seth responded, still looking over the file.

“Well, I’d rather not hear of the accident.” Nichole was losing her [s]patients[/s] patience with this boy.

“Well that’s not my problem, is it?” Seth looked up at her with his gray eyes that were coated in black. ’What a freak,[/b]’ Nichole thought.

“Shouldn’t it be a part of the dress code not to wear makeup to work?” Nichole spat ‘makeup’ as if he was a girl. Men shouldn’t be wearing pounds of eyeliner. [This is where I'm going to ask you if you could add in some character description of the both of them - show us that he's wearing eyeliner before Nichole asks him why he's wearing it, so we know exactly what's happening. Maybe you could have Nichole to look at his appearance, her eyes lingering on the makeup that Seth is wearing (maybe even add in some thoughts of Nichole's towards the eyeliner at that point) and then have her point it out to him. What do you think?(: ]

“I’m an assistant - and I don’t follow rules.” He flopped the file down on the counter.

“Well aren’t you Mr. Bad-ass,” Nichole retorted, [s]getting[/s] fed up with his uncalled for rudeness. Dr. Michaels entered the room before Seth could respond. He [replace this with 'Seth' as there are now two males, so 'he' could mean either one of them] was out in an instant.

Are you two getting along?” Dr. Michaels smiled, picking up Nichole’s file and dropping it in a bin [why is he throwing away her file, or did he put it in the bin by accident...?] at the end of her bed.

“Is he rude to everyone?” Nichole asked, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“Pretty much.The doctor smiled, “Should have seen how he reacted when he found out I was going to be his father. That boy sure does make a scene.”

“He’s ridiculous.” She yawned, tired already.

“Well, anyway[s]s[/s],” He changed the subject, resting his big hands on the edge of her bed. Dr. Michaels was a very tall man with short brown hair graying at the sideburns. He had a large nose, black rimmed glasses and thin-lined lips. “It’s time for an x-ray. Hope you won’t mind Sethus joining us.”
“Sethus?” she asked, stepping out of bed.

“His full name - are you okay to walk? I’d rather you be put into a wheelchair,” Dr. Michaels suggested, pulling one out from behind the counter.

“No I’m okay. I’d rather walk,” Nichole said, stretching as much as she could without hurting her ribs.

“Nichole, I’d rather you be in a wheelchair.” The doctor lightly pushed Nichole into one and started pushing. She felt so weak in one of them[full stop here, and expand on this point that you've made - why does Nichole feel weak in them, what is it exactly that she doesn't like about being in a wheelchair...?] The doctor wheeled Nichole into a room with a big machine [try and expand on the description a little], a scary big machine that had a window next to it. Dr. Michaels laid her down on the black cushioned bed that soon entered a tunnel type machine. She heard the doctor's instructions on keeping her eyes closed and to relax. Four loud bangs went off, causing Nichole to jump but she forced herself to remain [s]remained[/s] calm. She felt the bed start to move and kept reminding herself not to open [did you miss out 'her eyes' here?] until she got the ‘okay’.

“Smarty, it’s over,” Seth called out and Nichole blinked open, staring into the ceiling lights.

“I got that.” Nichole’s voice was husky as she raised herself onto her elbows.

“Please don’t do that - it may cause more injury to your ribs.” Seth’s step-father requested and Nichole instantly flopped back down on the bed. She heard Seth chuckle and tightened her fists into balls to control her short anger. “You can come in here, Nichole,” Dr. Michaels called out.

Nichole entered the room where Seth sat with a bored expression on his face and Dr. Michaels printing out the x-rays [I didn't know until just then that she was being x-rayed - try and make this a little clearer early on. Have the doctor tell Nichole that that's where they were both going, as he never seemed to mention it]. He held the four pictures up in front of a lit-up board. You could easily see the break in her ribs [?] which Nichole [s]shuttered[/s] shuddered at, not liking the fact that something was wrong with her.

“Is that bad?” she asked.

“No, it’s perfectly fine,” Seth sarcastically called out from behind her, messing with the jaw string on his sweatshirt.

“Sethus…” Dr. Michaels scolded his son, “Be polite. Nichole the break actually isn’t that bad, you could even be released tomorrow.”

“Without my Mom? When, by the way, will I be able to see her?” Nichole’s brown haired mother may be an alcoholic and just possibly be the only other person to get under her skin - but she loved her. That women taught her the ABC’s, sang songs in the car with her, took her to her first lacrosse practice, even taught her how to ride a bicycle the day after her father left. She was her hero down beneath, and to know she was in critical condition pained her.

“[s]You’re[/s] Your mother’s in a coma. It wouldn’t do anything to see her,” Seth butted in. Nichole felt her eyes sting and her heart rage.

“Out. Now.” His step father commanded, pointing to the door. After Seth left, Dr. Michaels explained to her.

“She is still in a coma, Nichole. You may see her as you please, though.” The doctor smiled as he lead Nichole back to her room. “About going home without your mother - don’t you have another parent at home?”

Nichole thought about lying, telling him there was just so she could have the house to herself [s]to[/s] and invite her two best friends, Alex and Felicia, over but she thought better than that [using those two words just didn't sound right, try and replace them (: ].

“Actually, my mom’s the only adult. Just me and her. My father lives in Florida with his other family.”

“Do you have a close relative nearby you could stay with?” Dr. Michaels asked.

“No. I have friends though.” Nichole hoped he would allow her to stay with them, but he declined that idea.

“Looks like you have to stay here, sweetheart.” Dr. Michaels lead Nichole into a new floor called the rehabilitation center. It was strictly for resting. He thought it’d be the best idea since it had a lounge area, a cafeteria and a room with a TV.

“I have a roommate?” Nichole noticed the other bed.

“No, [s]there’s[/s] that's just another bed,he explained.

“What about clothes? Can I get my clothes?” Nichole pleaded, uncomfortable with the gown she was in.

You cannot leave, Nichole [not even to get her clothes?]. How about one of your friends come drop some off when they visit, would that work?” he suggested, then closed the door behind her.


Last Minute Views
This was a good chapter, but I did notice a few things that you need to look at and work on:

Character Description
Try and add in a bit more character description of Seth and Nichole, as I couldn't visualise either of them throughout this chapter. Even though I haven't read the previous chapters, I still think you should aim to add in (only a few) small details of their character description for each character, so I can then visualise them all the time. :D

MC Thoughts/Feelings
Try and also expand on your MC - Nichole's - thoughts and feelings. I pointed out where I think they definitely need to be added in this chapter, but otherwise go through this (and all your other chapters, if needed) and read your work aloud as it will give you a different perspective, and you can see if something needs to be added, more details are needed, etc.

Dialogue Grammar
Check out this short Knowledge Base article: viewarticlebody.php?t=44898 and it will show you the rules of punctuation and capitalisation within dialogue =D.

I hope this helped you out, Oliv!! PM me if you have any questions or need anything, you know I'm always here to help :wink: :D
--Lucyy xx
"Don't think, or judge. Just Listen."



These were autumn mornings, the time of year when kings of old went forth to conquest; and I, never stirring from my little corner in Calcutta, would let my mind wander over the whole world.
— Rabindranath Tagore, The Cabuliwallah