Where I Belong (Extended)

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This has the same beginning as my piece 'Where I Belong' but I added a bid chunk in the middle. I hope you like it :)

I walked along the beach, dragging my bare feet through the sand and looking out to sea. The sun was setting, and it sent a beautiful pink light across the horizon. In the distance I could see a yacht gliding through the waves. The sky was empty except for the stray cloud that would appear every five minutes. A cool breeze blew in from the sea that made it feel just that bit too cold to go for a walk this evening. This was the time I liked the best. The rest of beach was deserted, the only sound to be heard the whistling of the wind as it whipped around the beach, causing sand to be flung around in every direction. I sighed, looking out to sea. The wind threw my hair around my face and I couldn’t help but smile. I loved it here. My heart sang with each gust of wind and every sound of breaking wave. The air was so fresh and pure compared to at home, where it smelt like smoke and petrol as you walked through the streets. There weren’t any amazing views like this one back at home. The only views I could see were of more houses, all lining the roads, some nice looking, others . . . not so much. That hadn’t been the place for me. Everybody living so close to each other that you had no time to think. No time to just be yourself. But out here, it was like a spirit had lifted the weight off my shoulders. I dreaded to go back home, but I knew my family would be pretty annoyed when I didn’t turn up for Christmas dinner.
It all started last year after my mum died. She had been sent over here to a specialist hospital unit, the doctors told us she had a much better chance to live in the hands of specialists. I was for anything that would help mum, but there was nothing anybody could do to help her in the end. She died on the 23rd August in the afternoon. That date was etched into my memory and I don’t think I’d ever forget it.
I had been on my way back to the hospital from going on a walk on the same beach as I was on now. Before I’d left the hospital I had checked that mum was in a stable condition, anything less than that, even just a bit restless, then I wouldn’t have gone, but she seemed absolutely fine. My walk had been a little longer than normal, but that had only been because I’d sheltered from the rain at one point on my way back. I arrived back in a somewhat better mood, but I couldn’t find any of my family in the waiting room. I looked everywhere I could think of, but it was only when I’d finished that it occurred to me where they could be. I practically sprinted to mum’s room, but it was too late. I saw them rush her past me on her bed. The doctors were shouting out to each other and I just stood there, unable to move. One of the doctors came up to me after the rush and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll do our best to save her, but it’s not likely to help . . .” I just ran off, flinging his hand away from my shoulder and sobbing so hard as I ran that my whole body shook. Soon my knees gave way and I collapsed against a wall in one of the hospital’s deserted corridors. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but it must have been hours because my family had to come looking for me. They found me and started talking to me, reassuring me, but I didn’t listen at all. In my mind, I was falling, falling into a dark hole that I thought I’d never get out of.
We all went back home after that. I spent most days locked up in my room, not coming out unless I heard a fire raging downstairs. Well, I wasn’t even sure if I would have come out then. It was only one day, when I was asleep, that I dreamt of the time when mum had still been at our local hospital and capable of speech when she told me something I’d long forgotten about. She’d said, “You know, there were a whole load of things I wanted to do in my life and I never got round to doing any of them. Don’t let that happen to you, Cathy, do the things you want to before your time comes. Don’t regret anything you do.” And after I woke up, I realized that I wouldn’t have a very enjoyable existence if I spent my whole life brooding in my dusty room. I decided then that I go to all the places I’d always to go no matter what anyone said. I’d live my life how I wanted to and wouldn’t be ruled by unwanted memories.
I went just about everywhere I could think of, and used up just about all of my money, but in the end, I found my way back here. I’d never really appreciated the beauty of this place when I used to come for walks, but now it took my breath away.
The sun lay lower now and it looked an even better sight than before. The wind picked up a little and I sat down on the sand. Inhaling deeply, I thought, this truly is where I belonged.
'But I don't want to survive, I want to live.'
-WALLE




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Hi, lovestowrite! I'm crafty and I'll be your reviewer for today! I'm afraid I didn't catch the first draft of this story, but the title caught my attention so viola!

I thought this was a nice little piece but it had one big thing that bothers me: the pace. When your writing such a short piece you need to search things thouroughly and take things slowly, sometimes even agonizingly so. I took this section from the middle of your story, being it's one of the most important and rushed parts.

“We’ll do our best to save her, but it’s not likely to help . . .” I just ran off, flinging his hand away from my shoulder and sobbing so hard as I ran that my whole body shook. Soon my knees gave way and I collapsed against a wall in one of the hospital’s deserted corridors. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but it must have been hours because my family had to come looking for me. They found me and started talking to me, reassuring me, but I didn’t listen at all. In my mind, I was falling, falling into a dark hole that I thought I’d never get out of.
We all went back home after that. I spent most days locked up in my room, not coming out unless I heard a fire raging downstairs. What did she do at this time? When this is the whole point of the story, her mothers death. You have to decribe her feelings to the extreme. You do a decent job with it besides in this part. Well, I wasn’t even sure if I would have come out then. It was only one day, when I was asleep, that I dreamt of the time when mum had still been at our local hospital and capable of speech when she told me something I’d long forgotten about. She’d said, “You know, there were a whole load of things I wanted to do in my life and I never got round to doing any of them. Don’t let that happen to you, Cathy, do the things you want to before your time comes. Don’t regret anything you do.” And after I woke up, I realized that I wouldn’t have a very enjoyable existence if I spent my whole life brooding in my dusty room. I decided then that I go to all the places I’d always to go no matter what anyone said. I’d live my life how I wanted to and wouldn’t be ruled by unwanted memories.


This is my thing: If I were you, I'd actually put more Cathy watching her mothers death. It would help the whole "Where I Am" title. She belongs by her mothers side or by the ocean, not in the dark place where she was. I also think that her emotions could become completely clear through an extra added scene like that. Thanks for listening!
I have loved the words and I have hated them. I only hope I have made them right.

---The Book Thief---

Hi, I'm Sunshine! It's lovely to meet you!




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Hi there!

So, I thought that was well-thought out and that the feel of this at the beginning and end was beautiful. Even though you haven't really disclosed any details about your character, I feel like I know her well because I can relate to her feelings. However, it's not as emotional as I think it should be. This is due to the lack of detail - even though this flash fiction, I'm left scratching my head because I don't really know what's going on. I want to know more about the characters and situations, since, by itself, a walk on a beach isn't really very interesting.

The big thing you need to answer with this piece is why she needs to get away to the beach, and what about it makes it so special her. You can do the latter by expanding upon your opening paragraph. Don't feel afraid to get detailed with your imagery and emotion.

As for why, you tell us that her mother has died but you don't really get into what that caused with the main character's family. Was her mom the only person that would listen to her? Did her dad suddenly become a lot more strict? Was it just not the same?

Hope these comments help you with your revisions -- drop me a note if you need anything further.

~ Elinor

All our dreams can come true — if we have the courage to pursue them.

-- Walt Disney




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I like this, but it seems to have one problem - the emotions aren't given enough detail. Yeah, the other reviewers said it too, but I'll say it again; we need more!

In fact, I'd say that expanding on your middle portion to make it show more emotion is probably the best thing to do with this story. We need to know more about the character to sympathize with her - maybe show us some more of who she was before? The description at the beginning is beautiful; use these descriptive powers more on her feelings, life, and person so that we can feel her and understand her motivations.

There's not much I can really say here; everyone else has done such an excellent job saying what I wanted to say. I hope it helped you some.




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Hello,
Well the other reviews have pretty much said that the story needs more emotion. This is true, a story like this is all about emotion. Most stories are about a character growing and coming to a realization or a point at which they can accept something. This is true very much of your story, it's all about the character coming to a point at which she can accept her mother advice and start living her life again.
However while I think that your retrospective telling of events causes your problems, you say things like "I went just about everywhere I could think of, and used up just about all of my money", which really is just telling us and not showing us, bad, i actually do like this style. I also think that the middle bit is somewhat more emotional than it has been given credit for. I could see it all in my head, the corridor, the character being pushed back as the bed was wheeled pas her. Seeing it made it emotional for me. I thought that a scene of her visiting her mum would bring more emotion to the piece. Maybe a realization that the women who was once so strong is relying on a tube to feed her, or a machine to regulate her breathing. Anyway just an idea.
In short a very good effort and some fantastic description at the start.
PM me if you have any questions
Quibbons



The magic is only in what books say, how they stitched the patches of the universe together into one garment for us.
— Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451