The Enemy Chapter 5

It takes me ten minutes to realize where I’m running too. The suburban sidewalk is leading me straight to Claralynn’s house. My best and only friend. She won’t be my best friend anymore once I tell her what I did.
It’s funny. She’s the only person I’ve never hurt. I don’t know how it’s like that. It’s a bit miraculous. I hurt everyone. I don’t like it, but I do. It’s the Enemy. I don’t have any defense against it. But things have gone too far this time.
My parents are dead. I killed them. I don’t like those two words: dead and killed.
The Enemy is silent. What more could it possibly say? Nothing it says could make me any more upset than I already am.
I don’t think I’m ever going to forget tonight. I’ll have nightmares. I know it. Nightmares that won’t ever end.
Who knows what’s going to happen to me now? They don’t put ten year olds in jail do they? Do they make me sleep forever like they do with those poor old dogs that are too sick to be happy? Am I going to be dead like a sad animal? I should be. I know I should. No one should get away with what I just did. I mean, they were my parents! I should have loved them! I did. But not enough not to kill them I guess.
I can’t remember how everything happened. Did I just stick a knife in them and start running, or was there more before that? I’m trying to remember. I can’t. It’s all black.
I’m still running. Claralynn’s house is just around the block. Only a few more steps. I know this is a bad idea. What if the Enemy makes me hurt her? What will I do then?
For a moment, I try to stop my feet from running, but I can’t. Who else could I go to? It’s not like I have anymore family with my parents gone, and even if I did, who would take me in? What person would take in some monster like me? I’m glad I have next to no one. I should. I deserve every ounce of sadness I get. I deserve it. I’m a monster.
Thank God Claralynn’s house is only two streets away and that it’s not raining. I’d be too scared to run then. But it is dark. I don’t like the dark. Soon I’ll be with Claralynn though, and she takes the dark away.
I turn onto Willow Cove Ln. and Claralynn’s house is the second one on the left. The house is white like Claralynn’s soul. That’s how I always remember which one it is. The porch light is on, as always and the garden surrounding the friendly looking porch is blooming with the coming of spring and all. The Renoir house is the prettiest on the whole street, no, it’s the prettiest in the whole neighborhood.
I run around to the back of the house, careful not to trip on the uneven stepping stones. Standing under the low overhang of the roof, I think about the first time I crawled up onto the shingles two years ago when I was just eight years old. We made the plans for our midnight meetings on our 2nd grade graduation day. It was so long ago, before the Enemy ever made me hurt anyone irreversibly. Since when did two years feel like a thousand?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to concentrate if I’m going to climb onto the overhang beneath Claralynn’s bedroom window. I scramble over to the back porch and reach underneath it. My hands grasp the familiar shape of the step stool Claralynn stowed there. After setting it up underneath the overhang, I climb up onto the roof. Claralynn tied a piece of rope around the step stool’s handle so I could pull it up onto the roof after me, just in case her parents went outside. We knew they probably didn’t care if I was there or not, but it just wasn’t the same if I went there announced. So I repeat the steps I’d taken so many times before.
I don’t like heights, but I’d do anything for Claralynn, so here I am, standing on her roof. I crawl over to her window and knock the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” which is our secret code. Almost immediately Claralynn opens the window and helps me through the window.
“Coren! What are you doing here? It’s 10 o’clock! I’m supposed to be sleeping and if my parents hear you....” Claralynn whispered. Her shoulder length curly blonde hair is tied back in a blue ribbon that matches her nightgown and her eyes. She’s really pretty.
“I know, sorry. I just... Clara... I did something horrible tonight,” I say, using my nickname for Claralynn.
Her face turns white. She knows all about the Enemy. She jumps on her pink-covered bed and motions for me to join her. I sit lightly on the edge of it, my back to her. I don’t want to face her, not now, not this time. I look around her blue and pink room. It’s full of unicorns, flowers, and magic. It fits Claralynn. She is magic.
“Cor... what happened?” she asks, hesitant of the answer. I don’t blame her. She knows as well as I do that the enemy can only get worse from here. She just doesn’t know how much worse.
I can’t stop the tears. They burn in my eyes and tumble down my cheeks. I keep wiping my face, trying to get them away but they keep coming and I can’t stop them. For someone who’s used to rarely ever having control over anything, I really don’t like not being in control. Maybe that’s why I hate my life. “They’re dead... they’re both dead... I couldn’t... I couldn’t...” I blurt, stuttering the words like a moron. The tears get worse and I begin to sob. Claralynn seems to grasp it right away.
“No... Coren, you didn’t! Not them... they’re your parents, Coren... you love them!” she whispers with disbelief. I sob harder.
“The Enemy doesn’t care, Clara! The Enemy probably wanted to kill them more than anyone else just because I loved them! You know how it works! I can’t help it Clara, I can’t! I’m sorry! Can’t anyone tell that I’m sorry?” I shout. I’m losing all control.
“Hey, shhh!” she hushes me. “Maybe they’re not really dead, maybe they’re just hurt. And Coren, it wasn’t you’re fault! I know that! So will the police, it wasn’t your fault,” she assures me.
My head snaps up. The police. What was she thinking? “Claralynn,” I say in a surprisingly deadly voice. I don’t like using that tone with Claralynn, but sometimes I have to. Now is one of those times. She shouldn’t have said that word. We’d been over this before. “Police, Claralynn? Police? Do you think they’ll just let me go because I have a voice in my head that makes me do things? Because I don’t have control over my own body? Claralynn! Do you want them to take me? Do you want them to put me in a crazy house where no one will ever believe me? Is that what you want?” as I ask that last question my voice gets lower, so low it’s just a faint whisper. I’m pleading with her. She can’t tell the police. I know what they’ll do to me. Not that I don’t deserve it...
Her face is white and her eyes are terrified, but then stone-cold resolve steps in. “No, Coren, I would never want that. You know I wouldn’t. Just... what do you want me to do? You come here and tell me that you killed your own parents and you expect me to be calm about it? Maybe you should get help, Coren. I can’t help you, not now,” her words break my heart. She’s the only one who cares about me, and here she is, telling me she can’t help me. If she can’t help me, what can I do? I wipe my face clean of the tears. Crying won’t get me anywhere.
“If that’s the way you want it, I’ll leave. I’ll get help from experimenting scientists who need a piece of meat to poke and prod. I always knew I was crazy, but I thought you believed in me, believed that I wasn’t. I was wrong. I’ll leave,” I say with my own resolve. I stand from the bed and walk back towards the window. I refuse to meet her eye. Just as I’m about to climb through it again she comes up behind me and grabs my arm. She turns me around and presses her lips to mine. I’m so startled I just stand there, not knowing what to do. She pulls away, slaps at the tears flowing from her eyes and turns her back to me. I turn back to the open window. We both know what this is. This is goodbye. I can never come back. I will never see Claralynn again.
With one last look over our shoulders, our eyes meet. I’m crushed by what I see. Those bright blue eyes are full of something I’d never seen in her eyes before. It’s horror. Total horror. Horror because she now really knew who I am. Horror because a monster was in her room. After ten seconds of her terrified eyes on mine, she bows her head. “Goodbye, Coren,” she says so softly I can barely hear her.
“Goodbye, Claralynn,” I say just as softly, then I climb back through the window and make my way through the night.

Just to let you know, I haven't read the other chapters so if some of the stuff I say is wrong because I haven't read them I am saying sorry in advance. This immediately drew me in. You are a very good writer.

I run around to the back of the house, careful not to trip on the uneven stepping stones. Standing under the low overhang of the roof, I think about the first time I crawled up onto the shingles two years ago when I was just eight years old. We made the plans for our midnight meetings on our 2nd grade graduation day. It was so long ago, before the Enemy ever made me hurt anyone irreversibly. Since when did two years feel like a thousand?

First, I don't know a single ten-year-old that would know what irreversibly means. Because you are writing from a ten-year-old's point of view you have to keep your vocabulary to a ten-year-old level. There were a few other times when you said things I just don't think a ten-year-old would say. I'm not talking about the whole 'voice in the head' thing because I realize that is part of the story.

Second, O.K., until now this has been pretty action filled. Going into this flash back was a bit unsettling. Part of writing is that you have to keep your promises. if you were writing an article about cancer and in the first paragraph you said 'doctors have found a cure for cancer', but in the third paragraph you said 'but of course we can't be sure and even if we are right it would be very unstable. We don't even no if this medicine can be made yet' readers would feel angry at you. It is the same with your writing style. If you change how you are writing suddenly it doesn't work. For example:

Matthew ran through the passageway only two thoughts on his brain. Kill. Run. Sweat stung his eyes; blood filled his mouth. The passageway was cool and damp. Matthew thought of the cave he used to play at a child. This place gave him the same calm feeling that he had been searching for all this time. He sat down not thinking about what he had been about to do. Only wishing for that place.

It just doesn't make sense! We already know that the boy cares for this person very much. I also already had the feeling that they had known each-other for a while.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to concentrate if I’m going to climb onto the overhang beneath Claralynn’s bedroom window. I scramble over to the back porch and reach underneath it. My hands grasp the familiar shape of the step stool Claralynn stowed there. After setting it up underneath the overhang, I climb up onto the roof. Claralynn tied a piece of rope around the step stool’s handle so I could pull it up onto the roof after me, just in case her parents went outside. We knew they probably didn’t care if I was there or not, but it just wasn’t the same if I went there announced. So I repeat the steps I’d taken so many times before.

First you say he has to concentrate. Then you say he has done this a lot before. So why would he have to concentrate so much? Of course what you describe would be very difficult, but wouldn't he feel more confident if the motions were familiar?

I don’t like heights, but I’d do anything for Claralynn, so here I am, standing on her roof. I crawl over to her window and knock the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” which is our secret code. Almost immediately Claralynn opens the window and helps me through the window.

I noticed this problem a few times. You repeat yourself a lot. You can cut out the last 'the window'. I suggest reading through this piece carefully a few times over looking for such cases. You can look for grammar mistakes while you go as well. I always do this at least three times before I call it my final draft. Then if you can have other people look it over as well to see if they can find any because a lot of the times it is harder to find mistakes in your own work.

“Coren! What are you doing here? It’s 10 o’clock! I’m supposed to be sleeping and if my parents hear you....” Claralynn whispered. Her shoulder length curly blonde hair is tied back in a blue ribbon that matches her nightgown and her eyes. She’s really pretty.
“I know, sorry. I just... Clara... I did something horrible tonight,” I say, using my nickname for Claralynn.

I know that some people have different opinions on this, but I think that at least 50% percent of the time you should let the words in speech talk for themselves. The first, you should already know that she is giving a whisper because of her words. She wouldn't be yelling because it is 10 and she is supposed to be sleeping. So, when you say 'whispered' it actually takes away the affect of the whisper instead of adding. You focus on the word 'whisper' instead of us focusing on what she is whispering.

The second, sometimes it is obvious what people say after speech. You can cut out everything after 'I say'. Because we know her name is Claralynn and we also know she is the other person in the room we know that Clara is her nickname. Actually we also can assume that it is just his nickname because every other time he calls her Claralynn so that must be what her parents call her. You explaining this is like someone writing 'he yelled in an angry tone.'

She turns me around and presses her lips to mine.

This is just another thing I don't think any ten-year-old would do...

I hope I helped

A. S.

time8keeper wrote:

Chapter Five
Coren: Age 10

It takes me ten minutes to realize where I’m running too. The suburban sidewalk is leading me straight to Claralynn’s house. My best and only friend. She won’t be my best friend anymore once I tell her what I did.
It’s funny. She’s the only person I’ve never hurt. I don’t know how it’s like that. It’s a bit miraculous. I hurt everyone. I don’t like it, but I do. It’s the Enemy. I don’t have any defense against it. But things have gone too far this time.
My parents are dead. I killed them. I don’t like those two words: dead and killed.
The Enemy is silent. What more could it possibly say? Nothing it says could make me any more upset than I already am.
I don’t think I’m ever going to forget tonight. I’ll have nightmares. I know it. Nightmares that won’t ever end.
Who knows what’s going to happen to me now? They don’t put ten year olds in jail do they? Do they make me sleep forever like they do with those poor old dogs that are too sick to be happy? Am I going to be dead like a sad animal? I should be. I know I should. No one should get away with what I just did. I mean, they were my parents! I should have loved them! I did. But not enough not to kill them I guess.
I can’t remember how everything happened. Did I just stick a knife in them and start running, or was there more before that? I’m trying to remember. I can’t. It’s all black.
I’m still running. Claralynn’s house is just around the block. Only a few more steps. I know this is a bad idea. What if the Enemy makes me hurt her? What will I do then?
For a moment, I try to stop my feet from running, but I can’t. Who else could I go to? It’s not like I have anymore family with my parents gone, and even if I did, who would take me in? What person would take in some monster like me? I’m glad I have next to no one. I should. I deserve every ounce of sadness I get. I deserve it. I’m a monster.
Thank God Claralynn’s house is only two streets away and that it’s not raining. I’d be too scared to run then. But it is dark. I don’t like the dark. Soon I’ll be with Claralynn though, and she takes the dark away.
I turn onto Willow Cove Ln. and Claralynn’s house is the second one on the left. The house is white like Claralynn’s soul. That’s how I always remember which one it is. The porch light is on, as always and the garden surrounding the friendly looking porch is blooming with the coming of spring and all. The Renoir house is the prettiest on the whole street, no, it’s the prettiest in the whole neighborhood.
I run around to the back of the house, careful not to trip on the uneven stepping stones. Standing under the low overhang of the roof, I think about the first time I crawled up onto the shingles two years ago when I was just eight years old. We made the plans for our midnight meetings on our 2nd grade graduation day. It was so long ago, before the Enemy ever made me hurt anyone irreversibly. Since when did two years feel like a thousand?
I shake my head, trying to clear it. I need to concentrate if I’m going to climb onto the overhang beneath Claralynn’s bedroom window. I scramble over to the back porch and reach underneath it. My hands grasp the familiar shape of the step stool Claralynn stowed there. After setting it up underneath the overhang, I climb up onto the roof. Claralynn tied a piece of rope around the step stool’s handle so I could pull it up onto the roof after me, just in case her parents went outside. We knew they probably didn’t care if I was there or not, but it just wasn’t the same if I went there announced. So I repeat the steps I’d taken so many times before.
I don’t like heights, but I’d do anything for Claralynn, so here I am, standing on her roof. I crawl over to her window and knock the tune of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” which is our secret code. Almost immediately Claralynn opens the window and helps me through the window.
“Coren! What are you doing here? It’s 10 o’clock! I’m supposed to be sleeping and if my parents hear you....” Claralynn whispered. Her shoulder length curly blonde hair is tied back in a blue ribbon that matches her nightgown and her eyes. She’s really pretty.
“I know, sorry. I just... Clara... I did something horrible tonight,” I say, using my nickname for Claralynn.
Her face turns white. She knows all about the Enemy. She jumps on her pink-covered bed and motions for me to join her. I sit lightly on the edge of it, my back to her. I don’t want to face her, not now, not this time. I look around her blue and pink room. It’s full of unicorns, flowers, and magic. It fits Claralynn. She is magic.
“Cor... what happened?” she asks, hesitant of the answer. I don’t blame her. She knows as well as I do that the enemy can only get worse from here. She just doesn’t know how much worse.
I can’t stop the tears. They burn in my eyes and tumble down my cheeks. I keep wiping my face, trying to get them away but they keep coming and I can’t stop them. For someone who’s used to rarely ever having control over anything, I really don’t like not being in control. Maybe that’s why I hate my life. “They’re dead... they’re both dead... I couldn’t... I couldn’t...” I blurt, stuttering the words like a moron. The tears get worse and I begin to sob. Claralynn seems to grasp it right away.
“No... Coren, you didn’t! Not them... they’re your parents, Coren... you love them!” she whispers with disbelief. I sob harder.
“The Enemy doesn’t care, Clara! The Enemy probably wanted to kill them more than anyone else just because I loved them! You know how it works! I can’t help it Clara, I can’t! I’m sorry! Can’t anyone tell that I’m sorry?” I shout. I’m losing all control.
“Hey, shhh!” she hushes me. “Maybe they’re not really dead, maybe they’re just hurt. And Coren, it wasn’t you’re fault! I know that! So will the police, it wasn’t your fault,” she assures me.
My head snaps up. The police. What was she thinking? “Claralynn,” I say in a surprisingly deadly voice. I don’t like using that tone with Claralynn, but sometimes I have to. Now is one of those times. She shouldn’t have said that word. We’d been over this before. “Police, Claralynn? Police? Do you think they’ll just let me go because I have a voice in my head that makes me do things? Because I don’t have control over my own body? Claralynn! Do you want them to take me? Do you want them to put me in a crazy house where no one will ever believe me? Is that what you want?” as I ask that last question my voice gets lower, so low it’s just a faint whisper. I’m pleading with her. She can’t tell the police. I know what they’ll do to me. Not that I don’t deserve it...
Her face is white and her eyes are terrified, but then stone-cold resolve steps in. “No, Coren, I would never want that. You know I wouldn’t. Just... what do you want me to do? You come here and tell me that you killed your own parents and you expect me to be calm about it? Maybe you should get help, Coren. I can’t help you, not now,” her words break my heart. She’s the only one who cares about me, and here she is, telling me she can’t help me. If she can’t help me, what can I do? I wipe my face clean of the tears. Crying won’t get me anywhere.
“If that’s the way you want it, I’ll leave. I’ll get help from experimenting scientists who need a piece of meat to poke and prod. I always knew I was crazy, but I thought you believed in me, believed that I wasn’t. I was wrong. I’ll leave,” I say with my own resolve. I stand from the bed and walk back towards the window. I refuse to meet her eye. Just as I’m about to climb through it again she comes up behind me and grabs my arm. She turns me around and presses her lips to mine. I’m so startled I just stand there, not knowing what to do. She pulls away, slaps at the tears flowing from her eyes and turns her back to me. I turn back to the open window. We both know what this is. This is goodbye. I can never come back. I will never see Claralynn again.
With one last look over our shoulders, our eyes meet. I’m crushed by what I see. Those bright blue eyes are full of something I’d never seen in her eyes before. It’s horror. Total horror. Horror because she now really knew who I am. Horror because a monster was in her room. After ten seconds of her terrified eyes on mine, she bows her head. “Goodbye, Coren,” she says so softly I can barely hear her.
“Goodbye, Claralynn,” I say just as softly, then I climb back through the window and make my way through the night.

Hello, Day here!
Ok first of all this was a very well written story with no noticeable spelling or grammatical mistakes that I caught and you should be really proud of it!
Critiques: The entire story just doesn't seem believable. Is this girl possessed? Is The Enemy who I'm thinking he is? She's a ten year old who just killed her parents because an evil voice in her head told her to and now she's running to her friend's house because her friend always makes her feel better? I just felt like I was missing something, I don't know what it was......Also I didn't realize until the end that Coren was a boy! I think maybe it would help if you describe something that would leave no doubt in our minds.
Anyways, storyline aside I think you did a good job with the dialogue and the descriptions. It flowed, you have talent!

Keep writing!
~day

Hey Day!

Thanks for your review! This is a story that you really have to read in order, in my opinion, especially when it comes to this particular chapter. Sooo I think if you go back and read the other chapters this will make a lot more sense to you!

Thanks!

~time8keeper