~Raining in February~

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Prologue: Sunken Hero

It had been such a warm winter. My boots sloshed and splashed in the puddles which was all that was left of the crisp snowfall the night before. I skipped merrily even if my spirits had been low for the excitement of snow had waned and turned into an abrupt disappointment at the coming rain. Such a cloudy, February day.

My older brother walked by me, hands in his pockets and his big headphones resting around his neck as he strolled with a edgy, impulsive walk, eyes half-lidded and shaggy mane of hair swirling in the wind unobtrusively. I admired the soft, almost golden colour of it as we walked, his fingers sweeping past the messy tresses once and awhile, eyes dark and ominous. His face was always contorted in this almost rage like glare, his mouth a hard line across his face and his voice a deep, throaty growl. It didn’t help that his torn jeans and oversized jacket made him look swamped, lonely under all the layers.

At the time though, I had never questioned my brother. He was just that. My brother and my biggest hero.

So I just splashed through the puddles with an added vigour in which he did not show as he avoided the water pools so his converse stayed dry. It was as it always was, and as it always remained… at least as much as I wanted it to be.

But, being at the tender age of ten, I had not realized the hurt his eyes held within them, the pain in which he concealed behind white lies and untruthful words. I had never known real and true pain till the moment I came home and he was lying on his bed, immaculate as he always looked in his sleep except the blankets were stained crimson, an empty bottle of pills strewn across his bedroom floor.

My life changed that day. Changed so completely, so unwillingly, and yet so unhappily. The day in which I watched as my brother’s body was taken away and my heart with him.

~~

Yes, this intro is a little... on the sad side persay. The idea for the story is a little strange but a lot of it does base around depression and pain.

Ciao
~The.Dreamwalker
Suppose for a moment that the heart has two heads, that the heart has been chained and dunked in a glass booth filled with river water. The heart is monologuing about hesitation and fulfillment while behind the red brocade the heart is drowning. - R.S




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WOW I really liked that one! :D I think you described it extremely well from a ten year olds point of view. yes it was short and I wish it could have gone on longer, but you got the storyline in there, which was awesome along with the right amount of detail and scenery description.

:D keep up the good work!

Alfreto
We all wish for forever, but forever doesn't always mean forever. The only moment we have is right here, right now. so think fast, baby before we lose it. <3




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Ooo Mysterious myseteries... Anyway good job with the descriptions of her brother, very vivid and bright. I know that this is only a prologue but I'm curious to learn more about the main character. You only really talked about her brother.

P.S. Having a story based around pain and depression is not strange at all. In fact, the novel that I'm working on has a lot of those same concepts in it.

Hope I helped :D!

~Wolfy
Don't follow in my footsteps. I run into walls.

Sometimes, it's best not to question your friends. Just help them dump the body into the river.

Even if the voices aren't real, they have pretty good ideas.

Writing isn't an excuse for insanity. It's a reason.




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Hiya!

Such a cloudy, February day.


Mind my grammar ... But shouldn't this just be "Such as cloudy February day"?

OVERALL:

Actually, this has sparked some intrigue. I like the:

At the time though, I had never questioned my brother. He was just that. My brother and my biggest hero.


The reason I think I liked that quote so much was because it seemed to bring a little mystery into the picture. It made me wonder, "What do you mean ... you never questioned him?"

So overall, this is a good prologue. It's short, but prologues can be any length. I like the descriptions, as well.
"Man is least himself when he talks in his own person.

Give him a mask and he will tell you the truth."

-- Oscar Wilde



I didn't know beards could do that ;)
— ShadowVyper