Towers

"Do it," they whispered, the sharp, breathy words echoed by the others. "Do it… do it."
I remember biting my lip and looking around my classroom. Crystal was on the other side of the room talking with Teacher, showing off her spelling homework. My teeth tore off a bit of skin and nibbled on it in indecision as I looked back at the tower of blocks.
"Do it… do it," they said, begging and ordering at the same time.

I remember wondering if I should… Crystal had spent a long time trying to get the blocks to balance on each other just right. And the tower looked so nice, like the palace from Aladdin. I wished I could take a picture. Maybe if I had a picture of it, I could do it.
I remember feeling guilty as I looked around. Guilty because I knew it was wrong and it would hurt Crystal's feelings, guilty because I knew I was going to do it anyways; guilty because I didn't like Crystal, and wouldn't care too much at first if she was sad, even though I should. No, I shouldn't. She would sometimes speak in Spanish, a language I didn't know, to her friends while pointing to me and giggling, and she had pulled my hair a lot when I first came to school in the middle of the year last year. Why shouldn't I have hated her? Why should I feel sorry for her?

I remember resolving my conflict quickly, locking out the guilt as I grinned to my classmates. I had no idea how big a role the towers would play later in my life.
"Should I?" I asked, reaching for a block in the middle. Their faces turned eager.
"Yes! Yes! Do it," they chanted quietly. I stole a glance at Teacher again.

"Are you guys sure?" I asked, moving my hand closer. One of the boys groaned and threw himself backwards, landing flat on his back, arms flung out in despair.

I looked around the room. The rest of my classmates were looking down at their games, but their eyes kept peeking out to see if I had pulled it yet. Crystal was the only one unaware of what was about to happen.

I heaved a dramatic sigh and reached to pull the block, reciting the words that were my excuse for everything at that age:

"All right, but you guys made me-"

In the instant before the palace collapsed I felt the guilt swarm me. I remember the bricks tumbled slowly through the air, drifting to the ground like leaves. Gravity vanished, and my classmates ran through the air like they were running through Jello. Sound disappeared, and while I knew my classmates were shouting, I didn't hear them. I knew the Teacher called my name, but I didn't hear her. All I could do was watch as Crystal's tower of blocks slowly collapsed to the ground.

Crystal shoved me away, breaking my trance. No sooner had I hit the floor than the Teacher grabbed my arm and dragged me back up.

"Outside!"

I looked at my shoes as the door slammed behind me, cutting off Crystal’s wails. I shivered. My jacket was still in the classroom. I sat down outside the door, curling up against the cool September morning. There were only a few kids on the playground; the rest were inside their classrooms enjoying free time before school started for the day. I sighed. Crystal was going to really hate me now, I thought. We had hated each other before, ever since I became the new kid at school a year ago, but this was big hate now. This was war. I sighed again and climbed on the railing of the ramp that led to the door. Dangling my feet, I remember not wanting to go back inside. If I went back, everyone would stare at me, and I would have to look at Crystal.

For crying out loud, they were just towers. They weren’t even real towers, they were just bits of wood. I knew I shouldn’t have done it, but for that moment, it felt so good to finally get one over her. To finally do something to make Crystal upset -- until she started crying. I felt like throwing up. Teacher was going to tell my parents. Then I was going to be in really big trouble. Again.

The bell rang, announcing the end of breakfast. A moment later, Teacher came and opened the door, holding it open for me. I hesitated a moment, then sucked it up. I went back inside and acted as if nothing had happened. I ignored the whispers and giggles paired with glances my way. I felt horrible, like I was going to be sick at any moment. I caught Crystal glaring at me with tear streaks down her face before she jerked her head away to face the Teacher again. I wanted to crawl inside my desk and hide forever and ever, until the end of the school year. Everything would be all better then.

Cool, invisible hands rested on my back and sunk through my skin as I watched our towers fall again and again on the television. A plane, a crash, a rumble, a fire, cut to the fall, the tumble of metal blocks, cut to the destruction, and loop. My fingers rattled, shaking the bones inside, my heart reduced to a lump of soggy flesh, giving a quick thump-thump to remind me of its existence. I felt each surge of blood throb in my neck and push against my skin, trying to cut through with every new pound. My throat squeezed tight and closed, I couldn't swallow, could only push air into my lungs and let my body take care of its release. I swallowed anyway, a desperate attempt to reason, to regain control of my body if I couldn't get a grasp on my world.

Our towers fell, rubble and dust and blood, the plane taking out that same center block I had removed all those years ago. Where was Crystal, I wonder? Had we perhaps pulled Osama's hair one-too-many times? Where was Teacher? Clearly, the peace talks between us and him had been just as ineffective as those forced upon Crystal and I. Words could do nothing against hate. Where were my classmates...?

There. I saw them on the TV, through the neighbor's window, heard them on the news, felt their raw humanity sizzle and zap the air as they pushed blood from their own bodies into that of another. There, I saw them jumping from the towers, there, I saw them torn and bloody on the ground, there, in the stretcher, there, in the shop. There, across the ocean, the ones who sent the planes, the ones who egged them on, they, the ones who destroyed our towers.

We were at war.

Dreamer!

This is boring! The characterization is flat. You have Crystal, the class, teacher, and your narrator, and I can safely say that I have no idea why I should care about any of them or why any of them even matter. I don't even know who the narrator is or why she does the things she does! The class makes her push down the tower, and she's all, "OMG, SHOULD I DO IT? I AM HURTING MYSELF, TRYING TO WONDER IF I SHOULD DO IT. OKAY!" Um. Wtf? Why is there conflict there?

"Oh, because they are making her do it!"

And yet, it doesn't sound like she really cares or anything... it's basically really flat. And the "conflict" sounds very childish, which is weird because the narrative looks like it's trying to be teenager.

And then it looks like midway through, you decided to make a connection with the Twin Towers and September 11, though I'm still not quite sure how that is supposed to work. I am not sure whether this is actually September 11 or what.

And I have no idea what you are trying to do with this. Having been 13 when September 11, 2001 was, I remember very clearly what that day was like and the days that followed. And this doesn't. ring. true. Not at all.

Okay, I’ve already mentioned this in chat, but yes. I’ve read this before, and you’ve most certainly changed it a lot.

Firstly. The language is where your issue is evolving. Your narrator has a sophisticated language set – younger than say ourselves, but too old for a regular child. I found them sounding young, but not young enough, the blocks are an excellent introduction in this way, they’re a focal point for setting. The use of “Teacher” is too obvious for me. I want him to speak – initially I thought the teacher was female, perhaps a bias on my part. I want him to say more than merely “Outside” because a teacher would have said more.

This should be longer – or shorter. Right now it’s in a terminal period and I’m expecting more from it than I’m receiving. Part of what Snoink is saying can be brought in here! I’m not looking for “Just in second grade” or “ we were only seven” what I’m looking for are real emotions. Right now I see “I hate her” and “I saw them” I don’t see “Crystal’s face always scrunched when she spoke Spanish, like she had to think about it really hard.” Or how she actually feels when they’re egging her on.

Now. Injecting some more emotions – not “I felt angry” but “My knuckles were white on the railing, like I was being absorbed into the paint” or whatever. The fix is to use examples, metaphors, similes, actions that reflect the right age. You have half of it here – certainly in the blocks falling. And then it’s moved, and you’re talking about the actual towers. This feels older to me, not quite the right emotions or tone. She’s cold, flat as Snoink mentioned – although not without character.

A question that may help is; how do you feel about it now? If they collapsed now, rather than before, how would you feel? Your emotions now are no less valid than those when you were younger. Confusion – why? Overwhelming guilt at the end – the connection between her and the planes.

I do like it, though! I love the blocks, and the chanting. I want someone to say not to do it, because there’s always one, but that’s not necessary. And. You’re talking about this in chat, and I’m going to repeat it here to remind you;

“and the lady who was supposed to be watching us and keeping us calm and not hyper had a spazz attack, and so we all freaked out...”

Show me that, in the text. The confused fear, worry, excitement – it’s always exciting in some way when you don’t know what’s going on. Make me feel horrified that you could make a connection between child play blocks and the towers collapsing. Make me believe the connection, and I will adore you.

I sincerely hope I’ve helped, given some avenues into fixing the issues.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

Um...there were those good parts in the story but for the better portion of the entire narrative, I was put to sleep. The characters are extremely flat and not well put together. The conflict was...unknown? I don't know how to explain it very well. The problem/ conflict was vague and I didn't really understand why this little girl was so evil to Crystal for no good reason. So she made fun of her a few times. I'm sure that the narrator made fun of some other kid before in her young life.
On the plus side, I liked it at points. The paragraph about the kids fleeing like they were moving in jello was really good. The blood and dust, I loved. So work on it a little more. Maybe it's simply a matter of adding in bits of background in some random places. Let us understand Crystal a little better. If you'd made her out to be more of an evil kid, then maybe we'd feel for the narrator and almost cheer her on. But not with this. With this, I want to tell the narrator to shut up and get back to her work and stop worrying about Crystal and her blocks. And I want to tell the other classmates to grow up and mind their own business, Crystal probably teased them as well.

-Rena.

Ah, many many thanks. I shall begin work editing immediately. I've already begun to work on the things that Snoink and Pengu pointed out, and you guys are awesome for your help.

Rena -- aha! There's a fresh comment, one neither considered by me in editing the work mentioned by any of the people when I had posted this before. Crystal is supposed to be depicted as the class bully of sorts, but not the flat bully with no emotions or reactions. Looks like I over corrected! Pengu actually mentioned something that got me thinking too, about having her scrunch her face up when speaking Spanish. Which would be good, except that Spanish was her first language, the same going for all the class except for the main character and one other student. So except for those two students, the rest of the class was more or less safe from the foreign language taunting. But you're right, Crystal doesn't really seem 'evil' enough to warrant the petty action.

As far as them being childish/needing to grow up... they're supposed to be 7 or there abouts. The age of the kids has been an on-going issue with this piece, one that I can never seem to fix properly. Will give Pengu's ideas a go on that though. They seem to be the answer, or close to it.

Snoink's mentioned some key points too though, a couple of which are going to give my hypno-eyes as I try to fix them.

For the flow from one time period to the next, definitely something that I'll need to work on. A little worried about that part. Regarding the inaccurate reaction for lack of better term, am seriously considering making the events of 9/11 occur a year after the Crystal incident, rather than several. I wasn't a teen at the time of 9/11, so had a pretty rough time trying to write the character as a teen for 9/11. So perhaps if I write what I know, which is an 8-year-old's reaction, it'll turn out better.

Thanks for the help, guys. Will edit this and re-post soon.

I thought it was well written, though your characters, like everyone said, were very flat. There was no character development, though the narrator was the more interesting one. I was very confused about the last bit. Was it all real, why did she think of those two, did she bomb a building they were in? Altogether, I am kind of unimpressed.

Selene: In regards to the scrunching face business.

That was just an example, to help with the characterisation and setting. You can have her scrunch her face when she speaks English. Or, she could look really pretty when she speaks it, like she's the opposite of the words. You've a bevy of techniques at your hands here, and most of which will be easy to implement, seeing as your story is so versatile.

I disagree that Crystal doesn't deserve what she gets here or, rather, I disagree that her actions and the actions against her are not evenly matched. You have to remember that you - and your reviewer - are not in the same age group as these children, they are young and what is important to them will never be on the same scale as what is important to you. Sometimes their issues are worse, more influential, than those which affect adult lives. So, to any of us (who have grown somewhat more mature than those in this story) Crystal doesn't really deserve the punishment. But to a little girl, Crystal may be the bane of her existence, always there laughing, being insulting in a language she feels she will never understand. Crystal is a good bully for young people, in your face and petty. The response to her actions feels right to me.

I realise this comment comes quite late in your reviewing process, but I hope it helps all the same. No doubt you've already encountered and fixed up all of this, but still.

*Hearts* Le Penguin.

oooh wow very nice job here I liked it a lot.
avery once in a while i owuld get a little confused about some bits but eventually i worked through them. but I would point out that when you first said "I had no idea how big a role the towers would play later in my life." you really caught my attention there and I couldn't turn away!

I LOVED how you tied it into 9-11 and I could sense the feeling of saddness I felt watching that same thing when I was 5.

I must admit at the end I was confused beyond beliefe. I wasn't sure if you were conecting crystal and the terrorists but whatever you were saying there was not clear at all.

anyway very good job my dear I liked it a lot!

~Adeera