The Inspiring Ones ~ Prologue.

Re-Edited with Paragraphs

“Rain, rain, go away, come again another day,” is what Daddy sung too me when the rain came out when I wanted to play. Maybe if I sung the same song that Daddy sings, it will go away and then Daddy can see his way home from work. I’m waiting for him, waiting for him to tuck me into bed to go to sleep. Every night he came in and read me a bed-time. His favourite story “Domes of Fire” by David Eddings, I was named after the princess in it, then kiss and tuck me into the warm and comforting bed to sleep. Daddy was normally home before dinner, but he wasn’t and it scared me because I didn’t know where Daddy was or when he would be home.

Tick tock, tick tock. The clock ticked and tocked away as every minute sped by so fast that even I couldn’t keep up with it. Everything was so confusing, tears trickled down my cheek, tickling my skin, but these were sad tears. Daddy didn’t like these tears; he wiped them away and just told me to be strong. I lifted my fingers to wipe the streams of wetness that now poured down my face. Hands pulled me back suddenly with such force that it surprised me. Voices filled my head, as my body slowly went down to hit the floor, and everything didn’t make sense after that moment.

The voices were telling me Daddy was dead, it can’t be true, that Daddy wouldn’t be putting me to bed, that can’t be true, but the one that was affecting me the most, was that they made me believe Daddy left me and was never coming back because he didn’t want to know me.

I scrambled up onto my feet, not so steadily, when I noticed Daddy was out the front. I didn’t see him come home and park on the front yard strip of grass. My face lit with excitement, but was dragged back down, when someone stepped out in front of me blocking my path. Mummy reached to the door and locked it, and I tugged at her skirt to let Daddy in. I noticed a silver glinting in her right hand, a knife, I can’t be. No! She stepped towards me, smiling cruelly, and raised the knife higher and higher, scaring the living daylight out of me every centimetre it was raised.

The tears fell so hard now they made my cheeks numb with pain. I could hear from behind the door that Daddy had reached the house, because he was now standing behind it screaming, unable to open the thing that separated me from him. Mummy’s words gave her my only attention; she spoke clearly and openly like this wasn’t hurting her. “You need to go to sleep baby, Daddy will be there soon too,” her smile grew as the words came out darker than ever. Afraid of what would happen, I only stood there, planted to the spot where I was standing, shaking with fear. After about a minute, I nodded my head, but doing it facing Daddy. His face grew with pain, and then the shouting started again, I covered my ears with my hands to hopefully block out the ear-splitting screams, but had no chance. Mummy held out her hand and nodded, as I took the littlest steps, terrified at what she had in plan for me. Was I going to meet God? I turned around to see Daddy’s face for the last time because I knew Mummy was going to do something bad to me, but discovered he wasn’t standing and screaming. Daddy’s body was slumped on the ground and his eyes hadn’t even had a trace of life in it, Daddy couldn’t be dead.

With no hesitation I started, not running, but walking rather quickly to the door, to see how Daddy was. Instantly Mummy reacted, she picked me up by the waist, the way a serial killer would kidnap his victims and started violently dragging me back to the bedroom. My screams and squeals were high pitched and would’ve deafen anyone standing in a 10 metre radius, but Mummy didn’t seem to care about how loud or ear-piercing my screams were, she just continued to drag me where she was planning to drag me. While screaming, my Daddy just continued to lie there, not even attempting to move. It didn’t make sense to me why Mummy was dragging me away from Daddy and why Daddy wasn’t even moving to save me. The only option I had was to kicked and scream at Mummy because maybe then I would get a response. My screams would’ve for sure hurt Mummy’s ears, but surprisingly she didn’t flinched, even as a kicked her in the shins and knees.

This wasn’t Mummy, well not Mummy I knew at home, who gave me food or bathed me. This was someone harsh and mean, and hurt me while dragging me away from what seemed like half my heart.

Daddy’s head snapped up like a tree being whipped up to cut through the air by a samari sword. His screams started to match mine and my tears resurfaced because Daddy looked emotionally traumatized and it hurt me so bad to see him like this, it was defiantly what I wasn’t used to, that’s for sure. Mummy’s pulling got harsher and rougher and my stomach started hurting from where the pressure was being applied, I started gagging as a reflex. My vision became blurred and Daddy’s screams were slowly fading to a soft buzzing sound in my ears.

Suddenly everything went blank and then I knew my life was over.

Hey Emilie,

I really tried to read this and I got to read some bits that I consider good but it was hard to read anything. Everything is in one big long block maybe you could try putting them into paragraphs.

From what I read you seemed to have captured the voice of the little girl and I love the song 'Rain, rain go away.'

When you have edited it PM me and I'll review it properly.

Keep Writing.

Anger

Hola Miss Senorita Chikorita!

I can't do indepth reviews because A.) I suck at them and B.) I haven't slept all night but I comment more on overview and structure and stuff like that.

This is a great start, I love how you thrusted into the middle of all the action but in my opinion, it all happened just a little to fast.

Does your story need a prologue? Because if it doesn't, you can lengthen it and make it become a chapter. If it does, just ignore this part.

Anyway, when the little girl is getting told that her daddy is dead, actually write the conversation because the way you wrote it made me want to know more. Remember, show, not tell.

How old is the little girl? Because she seems more intelligent but your trying to portray her as a little girl. There are some disadvantages from writing in someone who is really young perspective. You can't really use big words or term. Little girls shouldn't know what 'serial killers' are and stuff like that. She notices too much sometimes, which gives the story more depth, it's also implausible.

Even in prologues you could do dialogue.

Also, if there is going to be a time jump on the first chapter, you could do like Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. The first chapter was when Harry was a baby and the next was when he was eleven. I would like more details about what's happening since it seems like it's happening all so fast.

Sorry it's so rushed and stuff. I gotta go to sleep now, night!

I love you avatar! Chobits is hilarious!

I look forward to teh next chapter!

Lots of , Nepo!

Hey Emilie, Firefly here for that review!

Re-Edited with Paragraphs

Paragraphs are lovely!

Well, since I usually review while reading I'll just jump right into it! At the end, I'll put my overall impression of your chapter.

(Blue words) represent my personal comments
Green words are corrections to spelling/punctuation/etc
Red words that are struck out should be removed entirely

Now, on with your review!

“Rain, rain, go away, come again another day,” is what Daddy sung too me when the rain came out when I wanted to play.

As the opening sentence to your story, this isn't very eye-catching. It's too blunt, too direct, and it doesn't feel very smooth. Here's an article that I feel will help you greatly with this. The beginning of your story is the most important part! After all, you're trying to hook the readers into wanting to read on.

Maybe if I sung the same song that Daddy sings, it will go away and then Daddy can see his way home from work. I’m waiting for him, waiting for him to tuck me into bed to go to sleep. Every night he came in and read me a bed-time. His favourite story “Domes of Fire” by David Eddings, I was named after the princess in it, then kiss and tuck me into the warm and comforting bed to sleep. Daddy was normally home before dinner, but he wasn’t and it scared me because I didn’t know where Daddy was or when he would be home.

Alright, so far I've seen a whole lot of telling. "Daddy sings, I wait; Daddy always did this, his favorite thing is that." This doesn't really do much to show the reader who your main character (MC) is and her relationship with her father. Is the MC very young, or an elder girl reflecting on a time long since past? Is her father loving and devoted, or is he a busy man simply making up for lost time? It's very hard to get emotionally connected with these characters when there's no emotion put into the paragraph.

This link should shed some light on this showing vs. telling that I speak of.

The clock ticked and tocked away as every second? (Usually clocks tick every second, not every minute) sped by so fast that even I couldn’t keep up with it.

This is just an opinion, but I'd consider revising this sentence. It can stand pretty much on its own without "that I couldn't keep up with it," as this is inferred by the "sped by so fast" part.

I noticed a silver glinting in her right hand; a knife; It can’t be.

Alright, there are the few nitpicks I could see. My overall impression: this has the power to be a very powerful, emotion-packed read. The only thing that stands between what you have and what it can be is the telling! I don't want to be told that mommy is bad, I want to be shown this evil mother! Describe the sinister glint in her eye as she raises the knife, draw us in by describing the young girl's thoughts and feelings. Show us that she's scared instead of telling us. Which sounds better?

"I sat there, dumbfounded, and watched as the front of the car crashed into the tree trunk. I was thrown through the windshield, and knew instantly that I was dead."

Or:

"Even in my drunken stupor I knew that we were rounding the curve too fast. 'This isn't right!' I thought, panic filling my lungs and stealing away my voice as the car's tires wailed like frightened kittens in the silent night air. But we weren't slowing down; we couldn't!

'The rain!' I vaguely remembered that it had rained early today. Funny, the things you remember when staring death in the face. As the front bumper of my boyfriend's car kissed the tree trunk, I thought of my mother and younger sister. I was hardly the perfect daughter, and I had yelled at my sister the other day for washing my socks with her clothes. I had been so rude, and over something so small! I never did make it up to her, and now I feared I would never get the chance to. Would they miss me when I'm gone? Would I be gone? Does it hurt when you die? Am I going to die?

These were the thoughts racing through my mind, the last thoughts I remember thinking as my body was flung through the front windshield--I hadn't buckled when we left the party. I had thought that I was invincible, that we were invincible. Oh, how unfortunately wrong I was."

Even though these two examples are telling the same thing (a young girl was in a car accident), only the last one shows the readers why the wreck happened and the girl's thoughts as it was happening. It also elicits emotion from the reader, making them feel for the young girl. Does the first example draw out the same emotions?

Other than the showing over telling, I really can't see anything wrong with this piece. It has incredible potential--YOU just need to find that potential and unleash it! Make your readers cry! Make us laugh! Make us feel for your MC!

Keep writing, Emilie. And PM me if you need any help with/have any questions about anything I've said. I'll be keeping an eye on this!

Sincerely,
~Firefly

emiliedanae wrote:Re-Edited with Paragraphs

“Rain, rain, go away, come again another day,” is what Daddy sung too me when the rain came out when I wanted to play. Maybe if I sung the same song that Daddy sings, it will go away and then Daddy can see his way home from work. I’m waiting for him, waiting for him to tuck me into bed to go to sleep. Every night he came in and read me a bed-time. His FAVORITE story “Domes of Fire” by David Eddings, I was named after the princess in it, then kiss and tuck me into the warm and comforting bed to sleep. Daddy was normally home before dinner, but he wasn’t and it scared me because I didn’t know where Daddy was or when he would be home.

Tick tock, tick tock. The clock ticked and tocked away as every minute sped by so fast that even I couldn’t keep up with it. Everything was so confusing, tears trickled down my cheek, tickling my skin, but these were sad tears. Daddy didn’t like these tears; he wiped them away and just told me to be strong. I lifted my fingers to wipe the streams of wetness that now poured down my face. Hands pulled me back suddenly with such force that it surprised me. Voices filled my head, as my body slowly went down to hit the floor, and everything didn’t make sense after that moment.

The voices were telling me Daddy was dead, it can’t be true, that Daddy wouldn’t be putting me to bed, that can’t be true, but the one that was affecting me the most, was that they made me believe Daddy left me and was never coming back because he didn’t want to know me.

I scrambled up onto my feet, not so steadily, when I noticed Daddy was out the front. I didn’t see him come home and park on the front yard strip of grass. My face lit with excitement, but was dragged back down, when someone stepped out in front of me blocking my path. Mummy reached to the door and locked it, and I tugged at her skirt to let Daddy in. I noticed a silver glinting in her right hand, a knife, I can’t be. No! She stepped towards me, smiling cruelly, and raised the knife higher and higher, scaring the living daylight out of me every centimetre it was raised.

The tears fell so hard now they made my cheeks numb with pain. I could hear from behind the door that Daddy had reached the house, because he was now standing behind it screaming, unable to open the thing that separated me from him. Mummy’s words gave her my only attention; she spoke clearly and openly like this wasn’t hurting her. “You need to go to sleep baby, Daddy will be there soon too,” her smile grew as the words came out darker than ever. Afraid of what would happen, I only stood there, planted to the spot where I was standing, shaking with fear. After about a minute, I nodded my head, but doing it facing Daddy. His face grew with pain, and then the shouting started again, I covered my ears with my hands to hopefully block out the ear-splitting screams, but had no chance. Mummy held out her hand and nodded, as I took the littlest steps, terrified at what she had in plan for me. Was I going to meet God? I turned around to see Daddy’s face for the last time because I knew Mummy was going to do something bad to me, but discovered he wasn’t standing and screaming. Daddy’s body was slumped on the ground and his eyes hadn’t even had a trace of life in it, Daddy couldn’t be dead.

With no hesitation I started, not running, but walking rather quickly to the door, to see how Daddy was. Instantly Mummy reacted, she picked me up by the waist, the way a serial killer would kidnap his victims and started violently dragging me back to the bedroom. My screams and squeals were high pitched and would’ve deafen anyone standing in a 10 METER radius, but Mummy didn’t seem to care about how loud or ear-piercing my screams were, she just continued to drag me where she was planning to drag me. While screaming, my Daddy just continued to lie there, not even attempting to move. It didn’t make sense to me why Mummy was dragging me away from Daddy and why Daddy wasn’t even moving to save me. The only option I had was to kicked and scream at Mummy because maybe then I would get a response. My screams would’ve for sure hurt Mummy’s ears, but surprisingly she didn’t flinched, even as a kicked her in the shins and knees.

This wasn’t Mummy, well not Mummy I knew at home, who gave me food or bathed me. This was someone harsh and mean, and hurt me while dragging me away from what seemed like half my heart.

Daddy’s head snapped up like a tree being whipped up to cut through the air by a samari sword. His screams started to match mine and my tears resurfaced because Daddy looked emotionally traumatized and it hurt me so bad to see him like this, it was defiantly what I wasn’t used to, that’s for sure. Mummy’s pulling got harsher and rougher and my stomach started hurting from where the pressure was being applied, I started gagging as a reflex. My vision became blurred and Daddy’s screams were slowly fading to a soft buzzing sound in my ears.

Suddenly everything went blank and then I knew my life was over.

I ENJOYED THIS PROLOGUE VERY MUCH AND HOPE YOU POST MORE ABOUT THESE CHARACTERS