Don't Cry, Amy

I would appreciate any sort of comment There have been many events which led me to writing this. Please tell me what you think. Thanks.
I edited it - thank you so much for your help, I absolutely appreciate it, and it helped me very much. I did my best to fix it, and even added changes to my main character's personality. Again, thank you so much!

Don't Cry, Amy

They got him yesterday, they said that on the news. I move forward and backwards in the same fast pace. It’s somewhat soothing, I think, the motion, and I need to be soothed now.

Amy hated to cry but I know that she’d have cried about now. I don’t want her to cry, but I wonder if she even can anymore. It must be horrible, not being able to cry.

"Well, he's been captured," one of the policemen claims as he walks into the room. It’s the chubby one that offered me coffee before, but he knew I wouldn’t drink it, he was just being nice.

"When?" Wonders the other.

"Yesterday," the plump policeman replies. He puts his funny hat down on the counter. "Yesterday night," he continues to explain.

You’d have known too if you’d have flipped the TV on, I think but I don’t say anything, because of the shock and relief that washes over me. But most of all, I feel disappointment surge through me like electricity. It didn't bring her back. I always knew it wouldn't; my Amy was gone, but now it felt more real.

The tall policeman sips coffee from a cup noisily, bringing me back. I can't imagine how he can drink at a time like this, but then, maybe life actually goes on for him.

They’re standing next to the counter, and I am sitting on the cheap plastic chairs, you know, the ones meant for waiting. But I’ve been waiting for too long now. I nod once before continuing my motion. Back and forth, back and forth. I’ve seen people pray like that before.

It happened yesterday night, that’s what they said on the news. They got the person who killed Amy, only they didn’t say he killed her there. They said he killed a lot of people, and maybe he did, but I don’t really care, because it's his fault Amy's not here anymore. I put my head in my hands and think it through. I had pasta last night. It didn’t really taste like anything, it was just a lump in my plate, but I ate it anyways, because Amy really liked pasta. I wonder if it was because of my pasta that they found him.

And I’ve been waiting for a long time for them to find him.

Wait, I remind myself, I haven’t really been waiting all that long. I suppose that it’s all relative. It’s only been a month since Amy… I cringe. I can’t even think it. It’s only been a month. Four Saturdays, three Sundays, a few more meaningless days stuck in between.

The two policemen eye me from the corner of their eyes. They think I don’t notice.

"Maybe you should call it a day, don’t’cha think?" asks the tall one whom I don’t like.

I raise my head slightly, meeting his eyes. They’re small and brown and very average looking. Oh, he’s talking to me. I stare for a few more minutes until he starts shifting around nervously. People always do that eventually.

"Or you can stay," he offers at last. I nod once, going back into my motion.

I found out yesterday night. I don’t watch TV anymore, but I leave it on all the time. I think Amy would like the house filled with voices and cheerful sounds, and seeing as I can’t make them, I really don’t want to let her down.

There was a chase or something, and it was playing in the background as I was staring at the ceiling. I spend most of my free time that way, imagining Amy, with her black curls and her twelve different smiles. I counted them once. She had exactly seven freckles on the bridge of her nose - which she hated - and when she laughed her voice was too high-pitched - but I loved that part about her. I loved every part.

That night's memory was Thanksgiving. I was just imagining the scent of the gravy when I heard his name. Everything went to bits again as reality came returned. But his name was said, so I straightened myself up and glanced at the TV. There was a picture of him there. My hands started tearing at the carpeted floor, and it hurt my fingernails, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t look, I didn’t want to hear, but the reporter just kept on babbling.

I feel tears slide down from my eyes and I taste their salty flavor as it slides down my throat. But not it's the good kind of salty. More and more of them are spilling, and the middle of my chest aches. At times like these, Amy would tell me, "don’t cry", but then she’d hold me and let me snivel and wail for as much as I wanted, so I guess she wasn’t being very honest about that one.

Last night, I repeat in my head, just yesterday night, they finally caught him, but the reporter didn’t say much more than that. After that came the weather, some pictures of lost kids and then commercials. Then I looked around the apartment, at the clean white walls. The carpet wasn’t so even anymore since I snatched some of the threads. Amy wouldn’t have liked that. I might need to get it fixed.

Amy wasn’t much of the vindictive type, so I know she wouldn’t be too happy with me for being bitter. But I still hope they’d punish him, I really hope they would.

The tears are turning cold on my cheeks. I wipe them with my palm. They aren’t dried; they’re smeared now, but I suppose that’s better. I think that I have thought it through enough. I get up. My limbs feel funny; maybe I’ve been sitting for too long?

"Oh, you’re leaving?" asks one of the cops, but I can’t tell who. I don’t really care either.

I nod. "Thanks," I say under my breath, and I think the round policeman hears because he says "you’re welcome".

As I step outside it’s cold. I trail the already familiar path to my own apartment. It’s a new one, and it’s right at the corner. The walls are colored orange. I think Amy would’ve liked it.

Around me is the nasty kind of cold weather, right before it rains and everything’s gloomy. A tiny drop hits my forehead. I look up at the grey sky.
"Amy," I whisper. "Don't cry."

Hey Ofir!

Well that was a pretty good read. I'll drop in a few comments.

Well, they caught him,

I understand that it revolves around the fact that they caught him, but I would suggest you not to use this repeatedly in the beginning. It doesn't give a good effect while reading.

"Yesterday," the plump policeman replies.

You missed the quotes at a bunch of places. Please add them, at all the right places whichever is a part of the dialogue.

I wonder if it was because of my pasta that they found him.

I like this random thought.

Maybe you should call it a day, don’t’cha think? asks the tall one whichwhom I don’t like.

but I leave it open all the time.

I think you mean I leave it 'on' all the time.

They're salty.

Of course they are. So, I'll add in here that you need to describe things a bit more and show us things. Not tell us what happened. Like this sentence could go something like - The saltiness of my tears lingered on mouth. "It's not a good salty," I tell myself.

Well, I would've like a few insights on their relationship along with what she likes. It wold help a reader define a character better. Also; take care with punctuation.

Keep writing.
~Lava

I couldn't get through with reading your entire piece. I only read about a paragraph or so. It is hard to follow along in the story when it lacks a lot of punctuation to clear things up.

Hey I think you did a good job of showing the main character's grief and confusion over Amy's murder. I agree with Lava on the comment about repeating "they caught him" a bunch of times in the beginning. You can repeat it a couple of times, just not too much. I also think you need to show a little more instead of telling.

Other than those things, this was very captivating. I couldn't stop reading it and again, you capture confusion and grief very well.

Great job,
Embee.

Hey Ofir!!

Well, this was nice, I liked the story, the topic is very interesting. But there are some things that could be changed in order to make the story better. So, on to the review.

They got him yesterday, they said that on the news. I move forward and backwards in the same fast pace. It’s somewhat soothing, I think, the motion, and I need to be soothed now because they got him yesterday.

The first thwo sentences were excellent it created interest in the reader and wonder about who did they find and why was he caught. But the third one, I didn't like it, because you repeat that he was caught, and in a first paragraph, that's not a good thing to do.

Well, they caught him, one of the policemen claims as he walks into the room. It’s the chubby one that offered me coffee before, but he knew I wouldn’t drink it, he was just being nice.

When? Wonders the other.

Yesterday, the plump policeman replies. He puts his funny hat down on the counter. Yesterday night, he continues to explain.

You’d have known too if you’d have flipped the TV on, I think but I don’t say anything, because they finally got him.

To be honest, I had to read this several times before I could understand that the two policemen were talking. When you write conversations, you have to use the proper punctuation and the quotation marks in the conversations so it can be understood.

It happened yesterday night, that’s what they said on the news. They got the person who killed Amy, only they didn’t say he killed her there, they said he killed a lot of people, and maybe he did, but I don’t really care because he killed Amy.

You keep repeating it, and you repeat twice in this piece. About Amy, tell us a little more about her, how was she like, why was she important to you, how did you feel and she got killed.

I found out yesterday night. I don’t watch TV anymore, but I leave it open all the time.

You repeat that once again, and the part of the t.v should be leave it on instead of open.

After that came the weather. Some pictures of lost kids. And then commercials.

You don't have to break down this sentence, you don't need all the periods so try replacing them with commas.

But I still hope they’d punish him. I really hope they would.

You don't have to break this one up either, you only need a comma here.

Oh, you’re leaving? asks one of the cops, but I can’t tell who. I don’t really care either.

I nod. Thanks, I say under my breath, and I think the round policeman hears because he says you’re welcome.

Here's a dialogue I suppose but it's hard to tell due to the lack of quotation marks, remember to always,always use them.

So, I liked the piece, it has lots of potential but the punctuation isn't really helping so you have to improve that. Also the times you repeat the same thing over and over again, make the story feel a little boring and we already know that so don't keep repeating it. Then the ending, try to make it more striking so we can really get the feeling of the story.

That's all I can say, hope I helped.

XOXO
Pudin

Hey. I really liked this. I think you captured his grief and his descent into insanity perfectly.

Oh, you’re leaving? asks one of the cops, but I can’t tell who. I don’t really care either.

I'm assuming this is a stylistic device, the not quoting dialogue? I actually liked that they weren't quoted. It made it all blend together, like how it would seem in the jumbled haze of his mind.

I raise my head slightly, meeting his eyes. They’re small and brown and very average looking. Oh, he’s talking to me. I stare for a few more minutes until he starts shifting around nervously. People always do that eventually.

I loved that last bit. Shows good insight to his character now, too.


The only thing I could say is that I agree with Lava in that perhaps a little more insight into their relationship would be nice. Great job.

Hey again Ofir!!

I like it, I like the changes you made, especially how you described her with her twelve different smiles and her dislike towards the freckles she had. That was really cute, really, really cute.

And you quoted the dialogue that's wonderful! It's really nice to see that you consider what your reviewers say and try to improve your writing.

Just one more thing

Then I looked around the apartment, at the clean white walls.

This sentences is quite useless because there is no reason for her to look around the apartment and even more to mention the white walls. If you want to keep this sentence, try to give it more meaning, try to give us a reason of why she had to look around the apartment. Was she trying to distract herself from the news? was she looking for something that reminded her of Amy?

So that's all and is really nice that you take in account what a reviewer says.

I see you've edited it, to add more about Amy and their relationship and to now quote the dialogue.

I thought the extra Amy bit was very effective. It blended naturally with the rest of the piece, didn't feel forced.

Haha, I like the way you had the dialogue before though. I thought it added to the tone and to the narrator's grief and insanity, like it made everything that was going on blend together, instead of having a clear distinction between what was occurring in his head versus in the real world outside him, as dialogue tends to show. But I don't think it made that much of a difference, and to each his own.

It’s only been a month. Four Saturdays, three Sundays, a few more meaningless days stuck in between.

Forget to mention this earlier, but I thought this line about the Saturdays and Sundays was great - that is so how one thinks when dealing with a loss.

"Amy," I whisper. "Don't cry."

Ahh! You've ruined it, it was so perfect before. Haha I'm exaggerating but I do like how it was before way better; I loved it before. At first I thought the negative change was the fault of quoting the dialogue, but I think you could make it work with the quotes too, if you just have the same structure as before. like...

"Don't cry, Amy," I whisper.

I don't know, I'm doubting myself now, but I just really really liked how it was before, unquotes and all.

Great work, still.

Just stopped by to say this.

I'm glad you edited it. It's much better now.

Keep writing.