Can We Still Be Friends? (After This)

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We see a small shrub shake gently in the still summer air. It quivered as if cold. The wind whispered it's secrets in between the tall brown trees and the silvery moon momentarily poked it's head out of the fluffy gray clouds. The wind picked up fallen leaves and they flew serenely, (like pieces of confetti thrown from a small child's hand on fair day), into the air.

The park lights shone brightly, throwing their cruel yellow light throughout the park. Like small light houses they were, guiding a ship home, or a pretty girl perhaps?

Angus Biggs neither saw or heard any of this.

His deep black eyes watched hungrily from the shadows cast by the moon. He was like a patient predator, waiting and watching. Watching for the slim young girl whose name was Beth, with the flawless smile to pass him by.

Angus wrinkled his nose, the sickly smell of urine was virtually overpowering from the single toilet cubicle form where he watched. "Where are you bitch?" He whispered, flicking his sandy blond hair away from his eyes as he did so very often.

He was dying for a cigarette. But he made the swift assumption that Beth may see the light and run like a scared rabbit into the darkness.

Must be patient. These words kept bouncing around his head.

He had loved this girl since he was just 6 years old. He could see her beauty even then in Pre School, when they were so young and without a care in the world, or so it had seemed. Angus's only friend for so long, the only one who listened. The only one who made him feel like he really belonged.The only one who put a comforting arm around him, and soothed him when he felt down on life and himself.

Their friendship grew, like a tree. It became stronger with every year. But alas, like a tree it can be cut down and taken away so very quickly.

She made new friends and Angus made none. She was perfect, she had the looks and a family that loved her for who she was. In contrast, Angus's mum (before she died of cancer) had always constantly reminded him that he was, "a mistake."

Angus could see the way Beth's new friends looked at him, like he was piece of trash and his rightful place was in a bin or far away from them as possible. They whispered and giggled at his cloths and shoes. Both had more holes in them than a rifle range shooting target.

Beth and Angus' friendship faltered, then collapsed all together. He began to stalk her and constantly text her mobile phone.

Sometimes Angus would silently watch from outside Beth's window, as she was sleeping and dream of what used to be.

He sent her flowers he had stolen from the florists and he sent her chocolates from the grocery store, stolen as well. He had wrapped them up carefully with newspaper and had for a finishing touch, had stuck a tulip on top. He watched with an aching heart as she grimaced and turned her nose up in disgust. With wide, tearful eyes he watched as Beth had picked up the chocolate box as if it had dog shit in it, and walked it to the garbage can. Angus ran home, crying as he went. No one noticed, he was invisible to everyone, even Beth now.

So now, as the moon still plays hide and seek with the clouds and the leaves flutter lazily in the air like butterflies. Angus waits. It's cold now, his breath turns white like his exhaling a much needed smoke.

Beth always uses the park to get home quick from work.

We always walked together through here after school. And in the Autumn I'd throw leaves over her and tell her it would keep her warm. This was a memory that Angus enjoyed.

Angus's ears pricked up as he could hear high heels upon the pavement, they were like tiny pistol shots in the night air.

Angus held his breath, his heart was thudding in his chest rapidly, like a rat's heart.

Beth rounded the corner, her angelic features made Angus blush immediately and made him look away, ashamed of what he is meaning to do.

He didn't look up until he was confident she has passed him. Like a fox terrier chasing after a rabbit, he swiftly left his hiding spot and began to stalk Beth.

Angus was directly behind Beth now. She was wearing tight fitting jeans and a tight blue sweater. Angus held his gaze to the top of her head. Not acknowledging the way her ass rhythmically swayed sexily from side to side. Angus never loved Beth for a her beauty, but just for her kindness and ultimately her friendship.

Angus gathered pace, his feet were cold like he had dipped them in icy water, he had taken off and left his shoes and socks in the toilet as to dampen any noises.

He was so close he could smell her perfume, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. Still the same Beth. He thought.

There was a glint and a flick as Angus flicked open his switch knife.

With a psychotic smile that glistened nearly as brightly as the knife had, he raised the knife and tapped Beth on the shoulder.


There was only a brief scream, and all was silent once again.

Only the wind whispered back. Another secret it could keep.

THE END
"There is no comfort without pain; thus we define salvation through suffering." Cato




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Major points:

First: "The End." Don't say that, unless you mean it ironically, like you're spoofing an old-timey movie that usually says "The End" with a positive feeling. If you mean "The End" seriously, then don't say it, because it comes off as elementary. Readers should know when the end of your story is without you having to tell us.

Second: You switch tenses repeatedly. Past to present to past to present. Fix that. Particularly, you go into present tense right after the chocolates in the trash memory.

Third: Angus is boring. A cliche. The unpopular, violent, stalker kid who used to be friends with the now-popular kid and his parents don't like him. We've seen that character a million times. What makes Angus unique? Sure, a lot of people in the world do share traits with cliches, but they also have parts to their personalities that make them unique, and those are the parts that make people interesting and worth knowing.

The fallout between Beth and Angus isn't convincing. It seems more of a plot device than a real event--a way to get from Point A to Point B than something that affected Angus's life on a fundamental level. How did it happen, specifically? Okay, she made new friends and he didn't. But what about him suddenly became repulsive? Or was it not sudden? Tell us specifically how the change came about, because obviously this is something important to the story. As it stands now, all you say is "She made new friends. He didn't. He wore bad clothes and shoes. Then they stopped being friends and he stalked her." It's not convincing.
(Also, on that note:
They whispered and giggled at his cloths

It's "clothes", not "cloths")

Beth rounded the corner, her angelic features made Angus blush immediately and made him look away, ashamed of what he is meaning to do.

He didn't look up until he was confident she has passed him. Like a fox terrier chasing after a rabbit, he swiftly left his hiding spot and began to stalk Beth.

If he was suddenly ashamed, then what spurred him to stick with the plan? He must've given himself a pep talk or seen something that angered him or something. You can't just say, "He was suddenly ashamed. He killed her, anyway"


Minor points:
from the single toilet cubicle form where he watched

"from where he watched" I imagine. And they don't really call them cubicles, but rather stalls. Unless they call them cubicles where you come from.

His deep black eyes watched hungrily...He was like a patient predator, waiting and watching. Watching for the slim young girl...

The second and third "watching" are okay, but the first "watched" is too separate from the rest that there is not enough parallelism here to allow you to say "watch" three times in three sentences. Plus, you basically said "He is watching" three times in a row in different ways. Not terrible, but overkill.

Angus Biggs neither saw or heard

"neither saw nor heard" is what you want. "Neither"/"Nor" and "Either"/"Or" is how the words get paired.

The wind whispered it's secrets

whispered its secrets (no apostrophe). "It's" means "it is" while "its" shows ownership.

We see a small shrub shake gently in the still summer air. It quivered as if cold. The wind whispered it's secrets in between the tall brown trees and the silvery moon momentarily poked it's head out of the fluffy gray clouds. The wind picked up fallen leaves and they flew serenely, (like pieces of confetti thrown from a small child's hand on fair day), into the air.

I'm torn on your opening. On one hand, it's a description of weather and nature...not really the most exciting way to start a story. Especially not the most exciting way to start a story about murder.
But then you have the nice "pieces of confetti" line, and I like that.

Their friendship grew, like a tree. It became stronger with every year. But alas, like a tree it can be cut down and taken away so very quickly.

On one hand, I appreciate the metaphor. But on the other, it just reads as kind of trite, like a line of bad poetry you'd hear in a song that's just rushing to make it to the Top 40 Chart.

In contrast, Angus's mum

Beth and Angus' friendship

Either form is considered correct ("Angus's" or "Angus'"), but whichever you choose, you have to stay consistent. So choose one and stick with it.

Only the wind whispered back. Another secret it could keep.

I realize you're referencing the beginning of the story, but the metaphor in the beginning wasn't so compelling that we'll remember what you're doing. So you should either 1) make the first mention of wind and secrets and whatnot more memorable or 2) make this last statement able to stand on its own (without using the beginning as a crutch).

Also, there's the title. I almost like it. It's kind of humorous and kind of ironic. But the trouble is that it shares none of its humor or irony with the actual story itself--the story is blunt and serious. They're worlds apart in tone. So, ultimately, I can't be a fan of your title.


Sooo...that's it. Honestly, we see a lot of angry teenage murder stories on this site. A lot. It's almost disturbing really. However, be that as it may, if you're going to do one of those, too, then you have to make your character unique. You know? What would be the point if every movie that came out this summer was "Tough, cool guy shoots other guys!" and that was the entire premise...nothing to make them unique, nothing to make them stand out.

So consider the tagline "Angry teen stalks and kills person who wronged him!" and flesh it out to make it unique.
Last edited by sargsauce on Thu Mar 03, 2011 3:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.




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Oh my, this story was absolutely magnificent. I started out reading expecting to stop halfway through. Instead, I couldn't even think about stopping! I love your sensory details, and the eeriness of the story in a whole. I really hope you become inspired to write more like this, because you are a splendid writer.
"But it's unlikely, because you don't like me, and I don't like me, and it's unlikely..."




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Hey, I agree Sargsauce. I write stories on a whim. I think I should really flesh it out and develop it more.

I hating writing cliche stories, and I felt bad about posting this. But it's the way it went. It wasn't supposed to be about two lost friends...Well it turned out to be like it. Oh well.
"There is no comfort without pain; thus we define salvation through suffering." Cato



Every empire tells itself and the world that it is unlike all other empires.
— Edward Said