This is a draft. I need suggestions on the following if possible:
- Realism. Is this possible?
- Can you relate to Dexter? If so, how? The key to this piece is whether or not others can feel for the character, even if they don't agree with his ways.
- Help me fix my run-ons. I have some very very long sentences in here. If you think one needs broken up please give me advice on how to do so.
- Tell me when certain words get repetitive. I know I have a problem with it.
- Pacing; tell me when I elongate silly things and shorten important things.
*note*: the majority of italics (though there isn't much) are missing because they do not transfer with the document when copied. Just go with it.
Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
When the doorbell rang in the peaceful Saturday afternoon Dexter only rolled over in his bed, making funny groans and burying his face deep into his pillow. His mother, on the other hand, aptly rose from her spot on the couch, placed her book on the end table beside her, and rushed to the door. She was astonished to find a cute little girl with pink ribbons and a matching plaid miniskirt and dress shirt, completed with a striped tie.
"Is Dexter home?" Darcie asked with a smile.
Amused, Dexter's mother stepped back, holding the door wide open. "He's actually asleep, but you could stay until he wakes up if you would like. You're Darcie, I assume?"
Darcie obliged, nodding. "Yep, but most people just call me Dark."
Dexter's mother led Darcie into the kitchen. "Dexter has talked so much about you, it's nice to finally meet you. Sit down, dear. Have you had lunch yet?"
Darcie did as she was told, shaking her head. "No, I haven't, but I had a large breakfast, so I'm full still."
"Would you like something to drink, at least?" Dexter's mother opened the refrigerator. "We have water, soda, and iced tea."
"Just water's fine."
Dexter's mother retrieved a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the dispenser on the refrigerator, placing it on the counter in front of Darcie. She sighed and pulled a chair from the table back, sitting down. "So, was it you my son was out with so late last night?"
Darcie watched as Dexter's mother took a swig of the red wine she never noticed was in her hostess's hand. "Yeah..." Darcie looked down, slightly embarrassed, remembering the events of the night before.
Dexter's mother laughed. "I hope you two... made good decisions. Sixteen is far too young to have children."
Darcie was flustered at the thought. "Of course not, Mrs. ______. You have nothing to be worried about. I wholeheartedly agree with you."
"Good." Dexter's mother took another gulp of her alcoholic beverage, leaning back.
After several minutes of awkward silence and sipping on her water, Darcie finally spoke. "Would it be alright if I were to go wake him up?"
Dexter's mother smiled. ""Of course, go right ahead. Just be careful; he can be quite cranky when woken up."
Darcie nodded. "I will. Can you point me to his room?"
"Back where you came in at, up the stairs, all the way at the end of the hall."
Darcie stood, thanking her hostess and starting up the stairs. She opened Dexter's door as quietly as she could. She was relieved that she found Dexter's room clear of any dirty clothes typical of a teen's room, but had to hop over pencils, crumpled paper, and cords and avoid bumping over various paints and a couple pedistools with half-finished artwork upon them in order to make it to Dexter's twin-sized bed.
Darcie just stood over the sleeping boy for a minute, combing his scuffled hair with her fingers. Then she made a sudden jump onto the bed, landing on Dexter's back. She kissed his head, as his face was still hidden in the pillow. "Wake up, sleepy head!"
Dexter, dazed and confused, moaned and removed his face from the pillow. Darcie kissed him as soon as his lips were visible. He could barely open his eyes, but the glimpse of Darcie's wide smile was all he needed to identify her. "What are you doing here?"
Darcie petted Dexter's head. "I have nothing to do today, so I wanted to see if you were interested in hanging out or something."
Dexter, still out of it, pulled himself out from under the covers just enough that he could sit up, his bare chest showing. He stretched. "What did you have in mind?"
Darcie sat next to him. "Hm... I don't actually know," she giggled.
Dexter looked down. "Well, first I need a shirt."
Darcie stood, nodding. "Okay, I'll be in the kitchen."
"Okay," Dexter said as he stood up, and watched Darcie exit his room, closing the door behind herself.
He arrived downstairs several minutes later, clean clothes on his body, the fresh sting of mint in his mouth, and his hair wet. Darcie and Dexter's mother sat across from each other at the table, pausing their conversation when they noticed Dexter. Thought he had heard nothing, he was sure their guilty smiles meant that the morning gossip was about him.
With a sip of her wine, Dexter's mother greeted her son. "Hi honey, how did you sleep?"
Dexter grimaced at the drink in his parent's hand. "Fine, mom. How about you?" Dexter's inquiry was less out of politeness than it was of concern; he was fully aware of how much of a wreck his mother was without her husband. She hadn't drank more than a small glass on fancy occasions for as long as he lived. His mother had been living a near perfect life for so long she was unable to cope with negative emotions. Dexter knew he could only try his best for her, but something told him it wouldn't be enough. He worried that the drinking would effect her teaching career and impair her driving. He needed to do something to keep his family together until they found his father, but he had not a clue what.
"Well, actually." His mother smiled reassuringly at him, but the dark bags under her eyes gave away her lies.
Dexter could only look at the woman he called his mother. What could he say? Should he bring her out on her lies? Or should he let his mother be so that she could come to terms with reality?
Darcie could feel the tension in the silent air. Oh, how she hated it. Situations like that, they reminded her of why she didn't see her family much anymore. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Dexter's mother stood suddenly. "Well, it's already past noon. You two hungry?"
Darcie's meek voice sprang up. "Actually, I was hoping to get something with Dex downtown..." I need to get out of here, she thought to herself.
Dexter nooded enthusiastically, also wanting to escape the social situation. "That sounds good to me. Is it okay with you, Mom?"
"Of course." Dexter's mother sat down again, slouching. "I'll be here."
Darcie and Dexter both stood, walking to the door.
"Mom, if you need me, call, 'kay?"
"Okay dear," she called.
"Have a good day Mrs. ______," Darcie said just as the door closed behind her. Then, as she started down the block next to Dexter, she sighed. "Is your mom always like that?"
"Like what?" Dexter asked.
"Well, the drinking and the, well, totally being out of it."
"No... she isn't." Dexter looked to the ground, watching his feet come in and out of his sights.
"What's up with her then?" Darcie chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
"My dad... he disappeared a few days ago..." Dexter kicked a pebble down the sidewalk.
"Oh..." Darcie felt bad for misreading the mood. "Is that why the last few days..."
"Yeah..." Another kick; the pebble went farther this time.
"Do you know where we might of went?"
"No, he just left in the middle of the night. Didn't even take his car. We check everywhere, but..."
"No luck?"
Dexter sighed. "None."
"I'm sorry..."
Dexter finally looked at Darcie. "Nothing for you to be sorry for."
Darcie looked back, seeing Dexter's tears well up in his eyes, shining in the sun and his jaw clenched. She found her hand slip around his. When he realized what was happening he only squeezed it, just light enough not to hurt Darcie, but hard enough to help ease his emotions. The two walked hand in hand in silence until Dexter gathered his thoughts.
"He kept our family together in a way," Dexter said to himself as much as to Darcie, "He made sure there were constants in our lives. Small things like always keeping his plans and planning family things in advance... once you get used to something it's hard to go without it. That's why my mom is being the way she is; she literally has no clue what to do with herself. Teaching, cooking, and cleaning were all she has done the last twenty years by herself... everything else had Dad involved in some way. Even I italics feel lost a little without him..."
Darcie squeezed Dexter's hand back. "Is there any reason he would want to leave?"
Dexter sighed. "That's just the thing. Life was near perfect for us as a family. We never fought, they tried hard to understand me, we talked... He had a good wife and a good job. Not perfect, but good... it was like living in a dream..."
"I hope he comes back soon... but until then," Darcie stopped walking, turning n front of Dexter. wrapping her arms around him, then whispered in his ear, "I'll be here for you. Feel free to talk to me about anything, okay? It will be good for you."
Dexter hugged back, hesitantly agreeing. "I will."
Soon they were walking again.
Downtown was as busy as ever, bustling with hards and pedestrians all making their way down the streets. The two chose a small diner to eat at, which Darcie claimed to have good food. The loud munching from Dexter's mouth and giggling of Darcie was maintained throughout lunch.
Dexter was then dragged into a movie theater and guilted into paying for two tickets to see a comedy. The two laughed hysterically the entire time, enough to make Dexter's stomach ache. Of course, he wasn't too apt to laughing at first, was between Darcie messing with him and the quality jokes and gags made in the movie were enough to make him crack.
Next came window shopping. Yet again Darcie took the lead, going from store to store. She even made Dexter try on cloths for himself,, but he was so out of it that he barely minded.
But reality slammed right back into the atmosphere as Darcie led Dexter past an electronics store. The featured product in the window was a giant television, tuned to the local newscast. Images of a massacred body showed up on the screen. Dexter could not hear what was being said, but the description below was all he needed.
"Art murderers hit close to home"
The human in the photo had no skin on his body. His arms and legs had switched places, cut off and sewn on. The intestines were scattered over the body, and the human's head had been severed, its skull embedded with a shining clear crystal, and placed inside where the guts formally had been.
"Hey Dex, what'chu looking at?"
The screen zoomed farther in to the picture. He recognized the wedding rig on a finger.
"Dark... That's my dad." Dexter's voice was void of emotion. He was trying to wrap him mind around it all; his father was never coming home, he was made into a beautiful piece of art.
“What? Are you sure?” Darcie was shocked.
Dexter nodded slowly. “Yeah, the ring... It's his wedding ring... I recognize the engravings...”
“I - I don't know what to say.” Darcie put her arm around him.
“It's okay,” Dexter's lip quivered; it was becoming hard to speak, “I don't know what to do, Dark...”
Darcie with a sudden urge of responsibility kissed Dexter's cheek. "Let's get you home, okay?"
Dexter felt a tear fall down his cheek. "No... I - I can't go home like this."
"Okay," Darice wiped a tear from Dexter's face, "Here, we'll go to the club for a little and stay in my room until you are ready. Is that okay?"
Dexter nodded, coughing on his own saliva as he tried with all his willpower to not cry.
The two slowly made their way to Neon Bass, Darcie trying her best to comfort Dexter, with her arm securly around him and speaking words of encouragement to keep walking and unsure promises of a happy future, as Dexter was ready to simply sit down and cry in the middle of the crowd. They reached the club and walked into the near empty building as they did just the day before. When Dexter made it to Darcie's bed he just climbed onto it, laying face down, giving into the tears.
Darcie sat down next to him, silently petting his head in an attempt to comfort him, as he was looking the opposite way. After nearly a half an hour, Dexter finally stopped sobbing enough to be able to talk.
"What if I were to tell you I liked it?" He choked out.
"Liked what?" Darcie asked, confused.
"The body, Dark... How my father looked... How would you think of me?"
Darcie thought to herself in silence for a minute, realizing that she couldn't quite answer. "I don't know... do you miss him?"
Dexter swallowed. "I do..."
"Is his death the reason you are crying right now?"
Dexter felt his face clench up a little more. "It is... p-please stop this... just tell me... please..."
"I would think of you as someone with unique tastes. Art is something that everyone perceives differently... but that doesn't mean you don't care about the face that someone died... It doesn't mean you don't have a heart."
"It's just that, I scare myself sometimes... I am afraid that one day..." Dexter finally turned his head to face Darcie, "Forget it... not tonight..." He lifted his head lifting it just enough to put it in her lap. He looked up at her. "Thanks, Dark..."
Darcie wrapped her arms around him, kissing his forehead. "You don't need to thank me... I love you..."
Dexter found himself less tense in Darcie's arms. "I love you too..." He buried his face in her warm belly, afraid that he was blushing.
Even as the sound of voices grew outside the door, the two kept their positions. But when the bass started to shake the floors, Dexter finally spoke.
"I think I'm ready to go home now."
Darcie nodded, a little proud of Dexter that he was going to face his fears by himself instead of needing someone to pressure him. "Okay."
After fighting through the ravers trying to get to the exit of the club, the two finally began their trek back out to the suburbs.
As the music faded behind them, Dexter sighed. "I wish I knew what to tell my mom..."
Darcie shrugged, squeezing his hand in hers. "I can't help you there."
"The problem is I don't want to tell her... I'm afraid of how she will react, especially towards me..."
"Then don't. The police will find out who it is eventually and tell her. It doesn't have to be you..."
"You're right... but do you really think I can hide it?"
"I don't know... That's up to you. But I bet if you really try... for your mom, so that reality will hit harder when she is told."
"Yeah... for her." Dexter repeated that to himself hundreds of times and, as the walk went on, finally actually believed it.
When the two arrived at Dexter's house they were greeted by Dexter's mother as well as the aroma of pot roast. Darice was implored to stay for dinner, and soon the three of them sat down to eat.
Dexter's mother, still sporting her wine glass, began the meal's conversation. "So, did you two have a good time?"
Darcie glanced at Dexter, who she could feel was not quite ready for questioning, as he just looked at his mother like a deer in headlights. Se decided that it would be best that she did the talking. "Yeah, we did."
"What did you two do?" Dexter's mother said in a careless tone, just making conversation.
"Oh, just to the movies and did a little shopping." [Darice's pride was slowly growing as she answered for the person she loved. She was helping him; maybe he'll be happy with her.]?
"Ah, sounds nice. Dexter's father and I used to do things like that a long time ago. Amazing how things change. I think I'll ask him to go out with me once he gets back."
Dexter nearly choked, speaking for the first time. "Whe-when he comes back... from where, mom?" He had a guess at where this was going but... he didn't think that his mother had gone that far...
"His business trip, of course."
"Mom, what business trip?"
"Oh, I don't know. He most have forgotten to tell use he was going and went-"
"Mom..."
"-without telling us early in the morning so that he could-"
"Mom."
"-catch his flight. He probably carpooled, too. And he accidentally forgot his wallet-"
"Mom!"
Darcie jumped back in her seat, Dexter's shout squeaking through his voice box and cutting through the air.
His mother, on the other hand, was not even phased. "Yes dear?"
Dexter had felt the built up emotion from the days before exploding like a volcano from his mouth. "You have to stop this! Dad isn't on any trip! He disappeared. Gone. Why, I don't know, but that isn't the issue. He's dead, Mom. I saw his picture on the news. Stop living in a dream! Your husband is very very dead, and all you can do is lie to yourself and everyone around you to cover it up! This is reality, Mom!"
Mrs. _____ dropped her fork onto the table, which bounced to the floor. "No. No no no no no no no. No! He can't be! He was here just a few days ago. He was with us! People don't get killed for no reason!"
"Mom... he wasn't killed because of something he did... he was art-murdered..."
"Art-Murdered? You mean that disgusting, barbaric stuff you look up on the internet? Yes, I know about that, Dexter! You... How could... We said that it was just a phase... that it caused no harm... that you were a good boy... how could you!"
Darcie watched the scene in front of her in shock, but then this... woman said something bad about her boyfriend. She had to step in. She stood, slamming her hands on the table. "Dexter is a good boy! He would never do anything like that! Right, Dexter, right?" She looked at him for reassurance.
Dexter only sat there and cried. His own mother... then Darcie defending him... but he knew himself better than she knew him, which just made him cry harder. That day had been too much for Dexter. Too much happened. Too much to keep track of. He wanted to just hide fr the night, away from everyone. He wanted to be alone, as he had always been.
But he wasn't alone anymore.
In the lase few days he had gained a friend and lost a father, and maybe with him a mother. The simplicity he had known had been shattered into a million pieces.
Dexter's mother stood, monotonously mumbling she would be in the other room, then placed her dish in the sink and left to do as she said she would, leaving Dexter and Darcie at the table, Darcie still standing and Dexter staring at his food.
Darice sighed and sat down. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be, I'm the one who said it..."
"Do you think you will be okay?"
"Yeah, I'll live..."
"Kay..." Darcie glanced at her cellphone. "I'm playing at the club tonight. I have to leave now, though... want to come?"
Dexter shook his head. "No thanks... I need to think..."
Darcie nodded. "I understand. The club may be a good place to forget about things and enjoy yourself, but it isn't the best thinking place." She stood up and walked over to Dexter, hugging him. "I'm sorry for leaving you like this... I'll only be a text away."
"I think I'm just going to go to bed... I'm too tired to think." Dexter stood, walking his girlfriend to the door.
When the got to the door, Darcie hugged Dexter tightly. "But still, don't hesitate to text me if you need to talk."
The two held a long, passionate kiss.
"I won't." Dexter took last whiff of her sweet scent.
Darcie pulled back, looking into Dexter's eyes. "I love you, Dexter."
"I love you too, Darcie."
Suddenly, Darcie slipped out of Dexter's arms. She didn't want to say it. She ran into the cover of the darkness, down the street. It was the one thing that made her truly sad.
Saying "Goodbye", even if it was only for the night.
You use ellipses (...) way too often in this. As a rule, you should only have them a couple of times ever chapter at most, simply because they start to grate against the reader's ear after a while. You use them in just about every dialogue you have, which doesn't look very nice. Sometimes they are not needed, either, so pick the sentences where you think they work best, and get rid of the other ellipses that don't.