Jonah In the Night- Prologue

Alright, here it is. It's long for a prologue, I know. Everything in it, though, is essential to the plot.

Please... PLEASE!!!!!!!!... please be honest! If you hate it, I wanna here you say it. Please tell me if it is boring in any way. In fact, if you want to comment on this, think of at least one meaningful criticism that will help me be better. Thanks!


Prologue. Night

I am Jonah. I guess a lot of what we do is in our names. My own name reminds me of a Biblical tale in which a prophet was trapped in the belly of a fish. While I am not in the belly of a fish, my story is much the same, because I was in the night. I followed a girl I loved, and she led me down, down, down…

I step out into the chilly night air. Even my thick leather coat can’t flush out the cold. Methodically, I weave past my home's intricate security system, rife with cameras and heat sensors. Of course, I know all their workings, and getting around them is no problem.
Once past the main property, a winding brick path shrouded in flowery bushes takes me to the garage complex. Casually, I punch in the code for one of the eighteen garage doors, and watch it silently ascend. I'd oiled this specific door to move noiselessly on its rails. No one, not even our guard Rick, can hear.
The silent door now rests open. I idle for a moment in the blistery cold, or is it hesitation?
In the garage’s darkness are a few of the many fruits of my father's labors- Ferrari, Lamborghini, Rolls Royce. I won’t be taking any of those tonight. Something subtle will suffice.
The silent garage I'd opened held all the stallions of the night, black and grey, rugged motorcycles. Under the low-hanging garage door, I slip onto one of those small vehicles.
A reverent moment passes as I take hold of the cold metal handlebar. Black metal, so black that not even the moon reflected off of it. Nearby, a rack holds assorted helmets. Not like I'll ever use one; I like the thrill.
Feeling vanguard, I begin the long trek down our driveway. I don’t dare turn on the motorcycle yet, because Rick has the ears of an elk. Not till I reach the end of the driveway do I rev the engine and fly down the road.
Night greets me, and mansions pass. Time passes, too.
I ride with a fury. The bike zips and roars past the giant, expensive homes, then onto the common roads. Finally out of the neighborhood, I turn onto the highway, out into the wild.
As I ride through the darkness, I think of my loose family- the people I lived with, but didn't truly know. Headlights up ahead caused me to quickly brake. It is a familiar sports car.
“Andrew, isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” I tease.
He calls out, “Hey Jonah, just get in the car!”
“And ditch the bike?”
We’re all rich, dangerously spoiled, and think we’re invincible. Andrew’s father owns half the software manufacturers in the state. My own father sells military technology and is never home. We’re both well educated and prideful. In a way, we are the pilots of our own lives; in a way, we are slaves to ourselves.
Slavery to oneself is always the rule. When all is said and done, I follow my gut before my conscience. This is how it is.
The asphalt shakes in the presence of Andrew’s car, “Come on, this thing can do 350! Besides, your dad wouldn’t miss one bike out of his- what? - Thirty car garage.”
I stare down at Andy’s quarter-of-a-million dollar sports car and try imagining him and his clumsy self at practically the speed of sound on an empty highway. Horrific memories of Andrew’s passenger seat run through my mind. I do value my life.
“You’re a terrible driver, Andy. I’m not ditching the bike for a date with death.”
His mouth twists into a wry gin, “How ‘bout a date with Anna?”
As if on cue, a voluptuous blonde pokes her head out from the back seat. What? Andy’s the ugliest kid I know. How did he get Anna Ericson in the backseat of his car? Oh yeah, the car itself.
“Hey Anna.” I’m forthright, “Andrew, why is she here?”
“I just… I don’t know, picked her up.”
I check my gold watch, a Patek worth a fortune. It’s 11:30 PM. Impatience is mounting in my gut. This is taking too long.
“Andrew, it’s almost midnight. Are we gonna get going, or what?”
I rev my engine and cock an eyebrow. This excites Anna more than the bulbous whir of Andy’s sports car. I see it in her eyes. That’s it. Step out, girl.
A half-smile crosses my lips. A full smile crosses hers.
“I think I’ve found my ride.” Comes her sultry voice.
Begrudgingly, Andrew unlocks the car. Take that, Andrew.
I try to make the ride bumpy, so Anna will hold on even tighter. Appreciatively, she pours her heart out into my ears during the long, windy journey. It’s all stuff about her boyfriend breaking up with her last week and her trying to find the perfect guy. My heart leaps. I’m so close.
As we round a particularly frightening bend on the empty road at raising speed, her chatter stops. For several moments her head presses against my shoulder. This is my chance.
I whisper, “H-hey, you wanna hang out sometime?”
The turn fully rounded, Anna lifts her head off my shoulder and repositions her body behind mine. Several seconds pass before I realize she never heard me.
Anna’s blonde hair whips back and forth in the night air, glistening and reflecting the highway’s lights and the moon’s iridescence. I wasn’t sure then what I felt, but now I know it was loneliness. Even with this girl’s body so close to mine, and even with her having poured her heart’s fears and aspirations into me, there’s still no connection. I don’t love her. All I really like about her is her body, and I know a relationship with her would be truly empty.
In my back pocket is a vibration. With both hands on the bike’s handlebar I can’t reach it, so I mention it to Anna. She takes the liberty of delving into my pocket and answering the phone herself.
Hopefully it’s not my parents or Rick. It would be a little suspicious if a girl’s voice answered through my cell phone. Thankfully, it’s only Andrew, whose sports car still rumbles about half a mile behind.
I barely turn my head to watch her expressions as a muffled voice garbles in the cell phone’s speaker. While I can’t hear it, I can barely make out the elation in Andrew’s voice.
“Did Jonah ask me what?” says Anna.
Immediately, I shift to reflexes. Stop. That. Conversation. My hands jerk the handlebar, which swerves the bike across the open highway. The cell phone clacks on the ground behind me as I veer into a sideways wheelie and force the bike down.
Andrew vrooms past us, going at least one hundred fifty miles per hour. With a new interest mounting in her, Anna glances at the sports car before it disappears into the night. Then she looks at me. I thought she’d berate me for nearly killing her, but she laughs instead.
“Catch him!”
At least she likes a good thrill. I gas the motorcycle to its speed capacity and it’s only a few moments before I’m alongside Andrew’s speeding car. He makes a few facial signals that I know usually relate to girls. I answer by mouthing a “NO.” He understands.
An exit off the highway drops into the woody back roads, where we’re no longer secluded. This is where the fun begins. A few minutes of reckless driving in the black darkness brings us to an obscure place in a one-lane road. Here, a dirt path masked in greenery waits off to the side.
I follow Andrew’s sports car on the path, and watch as the dirt gives way to gravel, and the greenery to empty field. In front of us are rows upon rows of sports cars and motorcycles.
The sound of breaking glass and hysterics greets us. Many ride across the open field on their bikes, rising dust in billowing puffs. The black and dirty brown, midnight air is filled with the smell of liquor. Loud conversation is farther into the field while several drunks sleep on the outskirts.
Anna grips me tighter as we pass a drove of kids my age. They’re high, and ready to do anything they desire. From her vantage of sheltered richness, she has never seen anything like this before.
I roll up to the core of the action- a pavilioned, circular bar surrounded by kids sixteen to twenty years old. The place reeks of beer and expensive leather.
Andrew and I park in a reserved spot near the front entrance. Gingerly, Anna hops off the back and perks a foot back for her thank you. I smile and tell her to find her friends.
For a moment, she seems distraught, as if she expected to stay with me. I raise my eyebrows, and Andrew shuts down the rumble of his sports car.
With a wide-brimmed cowboy hat on, he says, “Go on! Get out of here!”
The three of us grin. Awkwardness settles over us. We take girls to these things often, but she doesn’t know this.
Anna whimpers, “Really? You want me to go? I wanted to hang out with your group!”
Wow. That’s really awkward. I wait for her to notice my passive expression, and Andrew’s creepy gawking.
“Oh well.” She continues, “Thanks for taking me, though.”
“No, thank you.” Andrew winks seductively. His hat falls off, probably from overexertion. Nice try, Andrew.
We head into the pavilion without Anna. Andrew scolds me for not asking her out.
With Andy in tow, it isn’t long before the pavilion swallows us. Past loud conversers and elderly bartenders from who-knows-where, past roaming girls that eye Andrew disgustedly, and through a drooping portion of the pavilion is that familiar booth.
The booth is makeshift, of course- with tires and wooden benches- but long planning was put into every detail of things like these. Andrew and I did most of this planning.
We wanted a place for rich kids to hang out. This was that place, and it had been so for a few months.
Maintaining secrecy had always been difficult. It was especially hard with kids constantly getting caught by parents when they came home too late, or too hung over. That was when hush money came into play- funded by Andrew.
At the booth already are a few peers. Among them are Edmund Devil and Sid Craig. They each have a head full of brown hair, but contrast sharply beyond that. Sid is punier and paler, but has wide eyes and a very high IQ. Edmund has thick glasses, tan skin, monstrous biceps, and a deep scowl.
Between the two is Edmund’s girlfriend, Samantha. She’s Anna’s older sister and look-alike, but with darker hair. Except for Andrew, who stays behind me like a parasite, these peers are all very nonchalant, cool people worth spending time with.
As I take my usual seat, a subtle wave of cold ripples over me. Either our section of the pavilion is breezier than it normally is, or there’s tension at the table.
“Hey Edmund.” I mutter (I’m not sure if I want to ask), “What’s going on here?”
“Huh?” he rumbles unwittingly.
“Never mind.” I say, “It just seemed that… like- I don’t know- something’s up. And nobody wants to-”
“- OK.” Edmund’s girlfriend Samantha volunteers, “I’ll tell him, guys.” A dramatic pause, “The place is being shut down… tonight.”
My mind goes black, “What.” I whisper, not even questioning her, just shocked. It’s. All. Over?
Mouth agape, I strain my neck to absorb everything of the pavilion I can. I can’t believe it.
Kids chat at the bar. All types of people- cool and uncool- pass each other and meet each other and learn each other’s names (and forget them) and drink beer and laugh- it’s a party. Why would anyone want to destroy it? How is it so bad? Do the kids here really cause that much trouble? Why is this happening? Who reported us? Questions. Questions. Questions.
Suddenly I comprehended the fragility of everything we’d done. It was too hard to keep such a massive secret. Nearly four hundred kids have been sneaking out to this place every Saturday night to party and get drunk and rebel. Someone had to spill the beans eventually.
Sid murmurs something in that whiny voice of his. It goes in one ear and out the other.
Andrew puts a hand on my shoulder, “Yo, it’s gonna be alright. We’ll just move the pavilion, and-“
I shrug his hand off, and stand from the table. This is too terrible.
“I’m coming with you.” Offers Sid.
Of course, I don’t answer. I can’t. There’s no other place like this. We can’t just move the pavilion. Half the people would stop coming.
Angrily, I decide to take a walk. Walks of an angry type are always the most eventful. Flustered, embarrassed, I leave the pavilion with many worries sinking in. Mostly, it bugs me that my friends would hide this dilemma from me in the first place.
For a while, in that moonlit darkness, an incredible resistance played out in my mind. I wanted this special kind of night I’d created to live forever, yet it was dying.
I need a new kind of night. I need a Godsend- an angel- a Muse. Thrills are my nature. Where do I get the thrills if I can’t party? What else can I do with my life? I don’t have a girlfriend. For that matter, I have no one to love. No one even loves me.
My thoughts rest on Anna, the aspiration I gave up on only minutes ago, on that blustery highway, with her head on my shoulder and her body against mine, my heart beating. Why did I do it?
She’s with some other guy by now. And it’s all because I didn’t act. When I could’ve spoken up, I chose to remain silent. I’d been planning to ask her out for so long, and I failed.
On top of that, the pavilion and field are being taken. Do I stand up for it? Do I remain silent? Is this much different than losing a girl? Of course it is.
Several minutes of reflection and frustration later, I still have no good ideas. There don’t seem to be any options. Ideas and observations zip through my mind and bog me down. I think so hard that I can’t.
With a harrumph, I hunch down on the hood of a nearby sports car. The laughter in the pavilion still accompanies my dreary thoughts. I check my watch. Midnight. I no longer own the night.
All these people- nearly four hundred of them- are no longer mine. From now on, my kingship is over. They can have their Saturday nights back, I guess.
I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t really matter. Maybe this is just a dream.
I let my mind go blank. Dead blank.

And, in the night, I dreamt of a beautiful girl. She was thickly clothed in black and gray. On her back was a katana- a sword I knew so well from my martial arts training. Her face was hidden under a mask, but her eyes were brazen, mocking- dilute, hungry.
She had me chase her over rooftops and rich men’s gardens, all the while passing in and out of their homes. She was silent and predatory. Everything flowed from her naturally. This girl could scale walls and jump from terraces. Soon, though, she’d scaled my heart.
She finally paused for me, and I reached out to touch this charming warrior. Would she let me? Was she real?
I asked, “Where are you going?” And she pointed to the dark night sky.
Distraught, I asked, “Why there?”
Eyes ablaze, she grinned through the black cloth and beckoned; I had a choice to make. Run? Follow?
She laughed, “Don’t lose me.”
Then she fell… and I followed.

I am Jonah. I guess a lot of what we do is in our names. My own name reminds me of a Biblical tale in which a prophet was trapped in the belly of a fish. While I am not in the belly of a fish, my story is much the same, because I was in the night. I followed a girl I loved, and she led me down, down, down…

I really liked this beginning. It has just enough suspense in it to keep me reading.

I idle for a moment in the blistery cold, or is it hesitation?

I'm not really sure why you put "idle" and "hesitation" in italics. Unless there's a specific reason, you can probably do without it.

A reverent moment passes as I take hold of the cold, black metal handlebar. Black metal, so black that not even the moon reflected off of it. Nearby, a rack holds assorted helmets. Not like I'll ever use one; I like the thrill.
Helmet-less, feeling vanguard, I begin the long trek down our driveway.

The "black" gets very repetitive here; try using a different word to describe the bike. Also, you already implied that Jonah wasn't going to wear the helmet, so you don't really have to say that he was "helmet-less" in the last sentence.

Finally out of the neighborhood, I turn onto the highway, out into the wild.
“Andrew, isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” I tease.
He calls out, “Hey Jonah, just get in the car!”
“And ditch the bike?”

You jump way too quickly from Jonah riding the motorcycle out in the wild to dialogue. Try to describe Andrew some more; not too much, just enough so that it doesn't seem like he popped out of nowhere. Was he standing on the side of the road? Were his car's headlights on?

We’re all rich, dangerously spoiled, and think we’re invincible.

Love this description!

What? Andy’s the ugliest kid I know. How did he get Anna Ericson in the backseat of his car? Oh yeah, the car itself.

This part made me laugh. x)

Appreciatively, she pours her heart out into my ears during the long, windy journey.

Okay, I've never been on a motorcycle before, but despite that, this doesn't seem very realistic to me. One, both of them aren't wearing a helmet and two, they're roaring down a road, so it might be a little difficult to have a heart-to-heart discussion. Anna would probably have to be yelling in order for Jonah to hear her over the noise of the motorcycle and the wind.

Anna’s blonde hair whips back and forth in the night air, glistening and reflecting the highway’s lights and the moon’s iridescence.

How does Jonah know what her hair looks like if he's away from her on a motorcycle and driving?

She takes the liberty of delving into my pocket and answering the phone herself.

Again, this isn't very realistic. It would be extremely hard to talk on the phone while speeding down a road on a motorcycle.

The place reeks of beer and expensive leather.

Awesome description again.

“Really? You want me to go? I wanted to hang out with you’re group!”

"You're" should be "your".

I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t really matter. Maybe this is just a dream.
I let my mind go blank. Dead blank.

And, in the night, I dreamt of a beautiful girl. She was thickly clothed in black and gray. On her back was a katana- a sword I knew so well from my martial arts training. Her face was hidden under a mask, but her eyes were brazen, mocking- dilute, hungry.
She had me chase her over rooftops and rich men’s gardens, all the while passing in and out of their homes. She was silent and predatory. Everything flowed from her naturally. This girl could scale walls and jump from terraces. Soon, though, she’d scaled my heart.
She finally paused for me, and I reached out to touch this charming warrior. Would she let me? Was she real?
I asked, “Where are you going?” And she pointed to the dark night sky.
Distraught, I asked, “Why there?”
Eyes ablaze, she grinned through the black cloth and beckoned; I had a choice to make. Run? Follow?
She laughed, “Don’t lose me.”
Then she fell… and I followed.

This seemed too rushed for me. One second, Jonah is all disappointed and the next he's dreaming? How can he sleep with all the partying going on around him?

Alright, despite all my nitpicky comments, I REALLY liked this. Everything I pointed out was just minor things that can be fixed up fairly easily. I like where your plot is going and I really, really like your character. I connected with him very quickly and even though he seems kind of snobbish, I still like him. I'll definitely be following this, so you better keep writing.

- Jelly

I read all of what you said. Thank you so much for the review! All these edits are really great, and I love your comments on the pace (i.e.- too fast, etc.) Also, I really appreciated your analysis of realism in this segment, like when you pointed out how it'd be hard for Anna to talk to Jonah on a speeding bike (how do I fix this?)
I'll make all your edits and try to shift the pace up a bit. I have chapter one mostly ready, so I'll post that soon.

I think I have an idea that might work for you. I was reading this one book a long time ago and the two main characters were riding a motorcycle. They were wearing these helmets that had a special, built-in speaker/microphone system. Basically, the characters could talk to each other through the helmets (kind of like on a phone) without all the noise from the wind and bike getting in the way of their conversation. If you want to go with this idea, Jonah's going to have to bring a couple of these high tech helmets with him when he leaves in the beginning of the prologue. You can make the helmets as fancy and as high tech as you want (Jonah IS rich, after all ). And maybe just as Jonah's about to ask Anna out, she can take off the helmet for an "extra thrill". Just an idea.

- Jelly

I find this to be a very interesting read. For one, it reads like a real novel, so good job there. And two, it's so strong in the way that it was written. The description, the character development, the entire prose was well put together. I like the general emotions and thoughts of the MC, he didn't seem like your typical spoiled rich kid, no, he seemed like a person yearning for something more in life, something to make him feel alive, or to just simply feel. I like the vocabulary as well, it was strong and mature and went well with the storyline. Also, I like how the MC wanted to get close to Anna but was hesitant and gave up, it shows that there's something about him that we have yet to discover. He wants closeness, but not empty closeness. Very good job, I look forward to seeing more.

Whitney...or Grandison

@jellybean, Meh... Maybe I'll just nix that whole dialogue, or make Jonah ponder over it. I really want this to be realistic and for Jonah to resent his wealthy status in life, so he probably wouldn't want to don a high-tech helmet in the first (for that matter, any helmet at all). Good suggestion, though... idk what I'm gonna do; it's a little confusing.

@Grandison, Thanks for the comment! I'm also very honored to be your first review! Welcome to YWS. Anyway, it's always good to know somebody appreciates something I worked hard on. It's especially good to know that it reads well. Do you have any criticism or suggestions (i.e.- pace, plot, ambiguity, etc.)? Since the story will escalate pretty quickly in chapter one, the prologue needs to be virtually flawless.

@anyone who's read this, I'm gonna post chapter one ASAP and make any edits you suggest. I'm only done up to chapter three, and a lot of it needs to be fine-tuned.

Warning: Chapter one will contain slightly offensive material- PG-rated, perhaps- but nothing unusually inappropriate. If you're over the age of eight, I think you'll be fine

As far as criticism goes, I felt like the whole thing was a good build up to what was to come in chapter one. We get to meet Jonah and we find out that he's a thrill seeking rich kid. We learn that he's lonely and he doesn't just want quick pleasure. We also find that his 'hangout' is being closed down.

If I had to point out anything, it would be the part at the end where he's 'fantasizing?' I was just a little confused there, I mean, is he still standing at the pavillion, or did he drift off somewhere only mentally? And is he now interested in Samuri stuff? Besides all that, I really love the description, dialogue and the vocabulary because it all seems so maturely written. I hope to see more =)

Grandison

Prologue. Night
I am Jonah. I guess a lot of what we do is in our names. My own name reminds me of a Biblical tale in which a prophet was trapped in the belly of a fish. While I am not in the belly of a fish, my story is much the same, because I was in the night. I followed a girl I loved, and she led me down, down, down…

I really love how you started this story out. It was really unique in my opinion.
The only thing I’m confused about is this part. ‘While I am not in the belly of a fish, my story is much the same, because I was in the night.’ How does being ‘in the night’ make it like you are in the belly of a fish?
The last part made more sense to me. I can imagine that heartbreak might feel something like being swallowed into a deep dark pit or the belly of some monster. At least that’s what I thought of it.
I step out into the chilly night air. Even my thick leather coat can’t flush out the cold. Methodically, I weave past my home's intricate security system, rife with cameras and heat sensors. Of course, I know all their workings, and getting around them is no problem.
Once past the main property, a winding brick path shrouded in flowery bushes takes me to the garage complex. Casually, I punch in the code for one of the eighteen garage doors, and watch it silently ascend. I'd oiled this specific door to move noiselessly on its rails. No one, not even our guard Rick, can hear.

So far this story is going very well. Your description is great; not too much, not too little. And there’s a great element of suspense.
The silent door now rests open. I idle for a moment in the blistery cold,or is it hesitation?
I didn’t like the last sentence. I was never really fond of questions sitting in the narrative; it always feeling like the author is butting in on the story.
It might sound better if it was rephrased like ‘I idle for a moment in the blistery cold, in slight hesitation.’ Or ‘I idle for a moment in the blistery cold, hesitant.’ There are many ways you can go about it; these are just suggestions.
In the garage’s darkness are a few of the many fruits of my father's labors- Ferrari, Lamborghini, Rolls Royce. Another picky rephrasing. ‘The fruits of my father’s labors rest peacefully in the garage’s darkness- Ferrari, Lamborghini, Rolls Royce.’ It’s your choice really, I’m only offering some fresh input. I won’t be taking any of those tonight. Something subtle will suffice.
The silent garage I'd opened held all the stallions of the night, black and grey, rugged motorcycles This sentence was a little confusing. Did ‘black and grey’ and ‘stallion’ describe the motorcycles? Or other vehicles? . Under the low-hanging garage door, I slip onto one of those small vehicles.
A reverent moment passes as I take hold of the cold metal handlebar. Black metal, so black that not even the moon reflected off of it. Nearby, a rack holds assorted helmets, left untouched. I have always liked the thrill. Not like I'll ever use one; I like the thrill.
Feeling vanguard My thesaurus seems to think that vanguard is a noun, meaning ‘front’. If so, this word doesn’t really fit. , I begin the long trek down our driveway. I don’t dare turn on the motorcycle yet, because Rick has the ears of an elk. Not till I reach the end of the driveway do I rev the engine and fly down the road.
Night greets me, and mansions pass. Time passes, too.
I ride with a fury. The bike zips and roars past the giant, expensive homes, then onto the common roads. Finally out of the neighborhood, I turn onto the highway, out into the wild. Awesome description! I really love this. ^_^
As I ride through the darkness, I think of my loose family- the people I lived with, but didn't truly know. Headlights up ahead caused me to quickly brake. It is a familiar sports car.
“Andrew, isn’t it a little past your bedtime?” I tease.
He calls out, “Hey Jonah, just get in the car!”
“And ditch the bike?” Great dialogue! I already love the characters!
We’re all rich, dangerously spoiled, and think we’re invincible. Andrew’s father owns half the software manufacturers in the state. My own father sells military technology and is never home. We’re both well educated and prideful. In a way, we are the pilots of our own lives; in a way, we are slaves to ourselves. I am loving the way you write <3
Slavery to oneself is always the rule. When all is said and done, I follow my gut before my conscience. This is how it is. Another great moment.
The asphalt shakes in the presence of Andrew’s car, “Come on, this thing can do 350! Besides, your dad wouldn’t miss one bike out of his- what? - Thirty car garage.”
I stare down at Andy’s So is it Andrew or Andy? Usually friends would only use one name for each other. quarter-of-a-million dollar sports car and try imagining him and his clumsy self at practically the speed of sound on an empty highway haha. Horrific memories of Andrew’s passenger seat run through my mind. I do value my life.
“You’re a terrible driver, Andy. I’m not ditching the bike for a date with death.” :D
His mouth twists into a wry gin, “How ‘bout a date with Anna?”
As if on cue, a voluptuous blonde pokes her head out from the back seat. What? Andy’s the ugliest kid I know. How did he get Anna Ericson in the backseat of his car? Oh yeah, the car itself.
“Hey Anna.” I’m forthright, “Andrew, why is she here?”
“I just… I don’t know, picked her up.”
I check my gold watch, a Patek worth a fortune. It’s 11:30 PM. Impatience is mounting in my gut. This is taking too long.
“Andrew, it’s almost midnight. Are we gonna get going, or what?”
I rev my engine and cock an eyebrow. This excites Anna more than the bulbous whir of Andy’s sports car. I see it in her eyes. That’s it. Step out, girl.
A half-smile crosses my lips. A full smile crosses hers.
“I think I’ve found my ride. I think this should be a comma instead, and then lowercase ‘comes’” Comes her sultry voice.
Begrudgingly, Andrew unlocks the car. Take that, Andrew.
I try to make the ride bumpy, so Anna will hold on even tighter hehe. Appreciatively, she pours her heart out into my ears during the long, windy journey. It’s all stuff about her boyfriend breaking up with her last week and her trying to find the perfect guy. My heart leaps. I’m so close.
As we round a particularly frightening bend on the empty road at raising speed, her chatter stops. For several moments her head presses against my shoulder. This is my chance.
I whisper, “H-hey, you wanna hang out sometime?”
The turn fully rounded, Anna lifts her head off my shoulder and repositions her body behind mine. Several seconds pass before I realize she never heard me.
Anna’s blonde hair whips back and forth in the night air, glistening and reflecting the highway’s lights and the moon’s iridescence. I wasn’t sure then what I felt, but now I know it was loneliness. Even with this girl’s body so close to mine, and even with her having poured her heart’s fears and aspirations into me when did she do this? All you mentioned was her telling him about her bad breakup and desire to move on from that. I wouldn’t really call that her heart’s fears and aspirations. Plus, I’m under the impression that this guy doesn’t even know her that well, possibly he hasn’t even talked to her before this night. And now he’s longing to be with her, and it just seems kind of abrupt. , there’s still no connection. I don’t love her. All I really like about her is her body, and I know a relationship with her would be truly empty.
In my back pocket is a vibration. With both hands on the bike’s handlebar I can’t reach it, so I mention it to Anna. She takes the liberty of delving into my pocket and answering the phone herself.
Hopefully it’s not my parents or Rick. It would be a little suspicious if a girl’s voice answered through my cell phone. Thankfully, it’s only Andrew, whose sports car still rumbles about half a mile behind. I thought you said he loved to speed. Wouldn’t he still be trying to show off, especially after he lost Anna? I imagine he’d be taking advantage of the speed on his car, and would be leaving the motorcycle in the dust. I doubt the bike could match 350.
I barely turn my head to watch her expressions as a muffled voice garbles in the cell phone’s speaker. While I can’t hear it, I can barely make out the elation in Andrew’s voice.
“Did Jonah ask me what?” says Anna.
Immediately, I shift to reflexes. Stop. That. Conversation. My hands jerk the handlebar, which swerves the bike across the open highway. The cell phone clacks on the ground behind me as I veer into a sideways wheelie and force the bike down.
Andrew vrooms past us, going at least one hundred fifty miles per hour. With a new interest mounting in her, Anna glances at the sports car before it disappears into the night. Then she looks at me. I thought she’d berate me for nearly killing her, but she laughs instead.
“Catch him!”
At least she likes a good thrill. I gas the motorcycle to its speed capacity and it’s only a few moments before I’m alongside Andrew’s speeding car. He makes a few facial signals that I know usually relate to girls. I answer by mouthing a “NO.” He understands.
An exit off the highway drops into the woody back roads, where we’re no longer secluded. This is where the fun begins. A few minutes of reckless driving in the black darkness brings us to an obscure place in a one-lane road. Here, a dirt path masked in greenery waits off to the side.
I follow Andrew’s sports car on the path, and watch as the dirt gives way to gravel, and the greenery to empty field. In front of us are rows upon rows of sports cars and motorcycles.
The sound of breaking glass and hysterics greets us. Many ride across the open field on their bikes, rising dust in billowing puffs. The black and dirty brown, ‘dirty brown’ air is just kind of hard to imagine. midnight air is filled with the smell of liquor. Loud conversation is farther into the field while several drunks sleep on the outskirts.
Anna grips me tighter as we pass a drove of kids my age. They’re high, and ready to do anything they desire. From her vantage of sheltered richness, she has never seen anything like this before.
I roll up to the core of the action- a pavilioned, circular bar surrounded by kids sixteen to twenty years old. The place reeks of beer and expensive leather. More great description. You do a great job at incorporating more than one sense. The smell of beer and leather really brought me into the scene.
Andrew and I park in a reserved spot near the front entrance. Gingerly, Anna hops off the back and perks a foot back for her thank you what is perking your foot back? I couldn’t picture this. . I smile and tell her to find her friends.
For a moment, she seems distraught, as if she expected to stay with me. I raise my eyebrows, and Andrew shuts down the rumble of his sports car.
With a wide-brimmed cowboy hat on I really can’t imagine him with a cowboy hat on, honestly x), he says, “Go on! Get out of here!”
The three of us grin. Awkwardness settles over us. We take girls to these things often, but she doesn’t know this.
Anna whimpers, “Really? You want me to go? I wanted to hang out with your group!”
Wow. That’s really awkward. I wait for her to notice my passive expression, and Andrew’s creepy gawking.
“Oh well.” She continues, “Thanks for taking me, though.”
“No, thank you ‘you’ can possibly be in italics for emphasis.” Andrew winks seductively. His hat falls off, probably from overexertion. Nice try, Andrew.
We head into the pavilion without Anna. Andrew scolds me for not asking her out.
With Andy in tow, it isn’t long before the pavilion swallows us. Past loud conversers and elderly bartenders from who-knows-where, past roaming girls that eye Andrew disgustedly, and through a drooping portion of the pavilion is that familiar booth.
The booth is makeshift, of course- with tires and wooden benches- but long planning was put into every detail of things like these. Andrew and I did most of this planning.
We wanted a place for rich kids to hang out. This was that place, and it had been so for a few months.
Maintaining secrecy had always been difficult. It was especially hard with kids constantly getting caught by parents when they came home too late, or too hung over. That was when hush money came into play- funded by Andrew.
At the booth already are a few peers. Among them are Edmund Devil and Sid Craig. They each have a head full of brown hair, but contrast sharply beyond that. Sid is punier and paler, but has wide eyes and a very high IQ. Edmund has thick glasses, tan skin, monstrous biceps, and a deep scowl.
Between the two is Edmund’s girlfriend, Samantha. She’s Anna’s older sister and look-alike, but with darker hair. Except for Andrew, who stays behind me like a parasite, these peers are all very nonchalant, cool people worth spending time with.
As I take my usual seat, a subtle wave of cold ripples over me. Either our section of the pavilion is breezier than it normally is, or there’s tension at the table.
“Hey Edmund. comma” I mutter (I’m not sure if I want to ask), “What’s going on here?”
“Huh?” he rumbles unwittingly.
“Never mind. comma” I say, “It just seemed that… like- I don’t know- something’s up. And nobody wants to-”
“- OK.” Edmund’s girlfriend Samantha volunteers, “I’ll tell him, guys.” A dramatic pause, “The place is being shut down… tonight.”
My mind goes black, “What.” I whisper, not even questioning her, just shocked.It’s. All. Over?This last part just seemed silly to me x)
Mouth agape, I strain my neck to absorb everything of the pavilion I can. I can’t believe it.
Kids chat at the bar. All types of people- cool and uncool- pass each other and meet each other and learn each other’s names (and forget them) and drink beer and laugh- it’s a party. Why would anyone want to destroy it? How is it so bad? Do the kids here really cause that much trouble? Why is this happening? Who reported us? Questions. Questions. Questions.
Suddenly I comprehended the fragility of everything we’d done. It was too hard to keep such a massive secret. Nearly four hundred kids have been sneaking out to this place every Saturday night to party and get drunk and rebel. Someone had to spill the beans eventually.
Sid murmurs something in that whiny voice of his. It goes in one ear and out the other.
Andrew puts a hand on my shoulder, “Yo, it’s gonna be alright. We’ll just move the pavilion, and-“
I shrug his hand off, and stand from the table. This is too terrible. Again, I thought this was kind of dramatic and silly.
“I’m coming with you.” Offers Sid. “I’m coming with you,” offers Sid.
Of course, I don’t answer. I can’t. There’s no other place like this. We can’t just move the pavilion. Half the people would stop coming.
Angrily, I decide to take a walk. Walks of an angry type are always the most eventful. Flustered, embarrassed, I leave the pavilion with many worries sinking in. Mostly, it bugs me that my friends would hide this dilemma from me in the first place. They didn’t hide it, though. They probably just found out, and Samantha decided to tell him, and the other two didn’t stop her.
For a while, in that moonlit darkness, an incredible resistance played out in my mind. I wanted this special kind of night I’d created to live forever, yet it was dying.
I need a new kind of night. I need a Godsend- an angel- a Muse. Thrills are my nature. Where do I get the thrills if I can’t party? What else can I do with my life? I don’t have a girlfriend. For that matter, I have no one to love. No one even loves me.
My thoughts rest on Anna, the aspiration I gave up on only minutes ago, on that blustery highway, with her head on my shoulder and her body against mine, my heart beating. Why did I do it?
She’s with some other guy by now. And it’s all because I didn’t act. When I could’ve spoken up, I chose to remain silent. I’d been planning to ask her out for so long, and I failed.
On top of that, the pavilion and field are being taken. Do I stand up for it? Do I remain silent? Is this much different than losing a girl? Of course it is.
Several minutes of reflection and frustration later, I still have no good ideas. There don’t seem to be any options. Ideas and observations zip through my mind and bog me down. I think so hard that I can’t.
With a harrumph, I hunch down on the hood of a nearby sports car. The laughter in the pavilion still accompanies my dreary thoughts. I check my watch. Midnight. I no longer own the night.
All these people- nearly four hundred of them- are no longer mine. From now on, my kingship is over. They can have their Saturday nights back, I guess.
I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t really matter. Maybe this is just a dream.
I let my mind go blank. Dead blank.
And, in the night, I dreamt of a beautiful girl. She was thickly clothed in black and gray. On her back was a katana a bit of confusion here. I’m assuming it was sheathed, and not just laying on her back. - a sword I knew so well from my martial arts training. Her face was hidden under a mask, but her eyes were brazen, mocking- dilute, hungry.
She had me chase her over rooftops and rich men’s gardens, all the while passing in and out of their homes. She was silent and predatory. Everything flowed from her naturally. This girl could scale walls and jump from terraces. Soon, though, she’d scaled my heart.
She finally paused for me, and I reached out to touch this charming warrior. Would she let me? Was she real?
I asked, “Where are you going?” And she pointed to the dark night sky.
Distraught, I asked, “Why there?”
Eyes ablaze, she grinned through the black cloth and beckoned; I had a choice to make. Run? Follow?
She laughed, “Don’t lose me.”
Then she fell… and I followed.

Wow. I have to say I’m impressed! I usually get distracted halfway through a chapter (or in this case, prologue) but I was hooked solidly from beginning to end. The whole scenario was very gripping and exciting, and I really like the narrator’s voice. I usually don’t go for many stories written in first person because the main character comes off as bland. However, it was the exact opposite in this case; I felt that the most compelling part of this story was the voice you gave it.

Your descriptions were marvelous, and you have a great sense of vocabulary. Some people fall into the pit of using the same words over and over. Others will try so hard to incorporate big words that they come off extremely unnatural and misplaced. Every word you used felt like it fit in perfectly, and your phrasing was smooth, which makes for a very engrossing read. I encourage you to keep using all your senses to describe. The most effective descriptions were the ones where you told us about the dust in the air, and the smell of beer and leather. It made me feel like I was actually there, inhaling the stagnant air and cringing my nose in disgust.

Onto your characters. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I think characters are the most important element in any story. So far, yours seem enjoyable, especially the main character. He seems to have definite flaws and talents, which are subtly added and not overly stated. He has charm, and seems to care about the well-being of his friends, but he’s also incredibly selfish. He’s constantly referring to the 400 crows members as ‘his’ people, and is very determined to have a girlfriend. Though his eyes are set on Anna, I get the feeling that almost anyone would do.

There’s a lot of potential for Andrew. You haven’t revealed too much about him yet, besides that he can be slightly annoying and is not the prettiest fellah on earth. I would love to see more of this guy in future chapters. And maybe you could give us some hint as to what makes him look so unappealing, rather than just calling him ugly.

I think the middle and ending of this chapter went more smoothly than the beginning, but there was nothing wrong with how it started out. I gave some rephrasing suggestions here and there but it’s all just food for thought, and you don’t have to change anything if you don’t think it needs to be tampered with.

I found just a few miniscule errors with your punctuation within dialogue, though I’m not an expert in that area. I will see if I can find a link for you that explains the rules properly, because I suck at tutorials. Besides that, you have excellent grammar!

here's a good one- topic44898.html

Well, that’s about all I had to say x) Please let me know if any of this was helpful, or if you have any questions!
Have an awesome day,
~blacksheep

I read your review. Thanks a lot for that, blacksheep! Every comment you made was helpful and instructive.

I'm especially glad that you interpreted the prologue well, catching on to the characters and what they stood for. Jonah is a thrill-seeker, which I'm sure you've noticed. He does have a knack for people, so you might call him a manipulator, although he's reserved and not very flirtatious. He feels alone in the world (and guys turn to girls to fight those feelings). In chapter one, there's a large section giving reasons for his loneliness. So, the main conflict will be for him to win over a girl named Adara, or at least understand her ways.

As for Andrew, he's more of a tool... I mean- character-development is great and all, but sometimes I just like to stick "dialogue arbiters" in stories, so that the main character isn't doing all the talking. I suppose I'll get into his character more: He's a general pest, loves to mock, and sort of represents an average teen. In chapter one, I use him (and Sid and Edmund and Samantha) as a comparison against Adara (who is introduced in chapter one).

So, thanks again for the review. If you're a true character buff, read on! I too love character-development, but don't expect everyone in the novel to be deep and intriguing

Oh hey- if you review chapter one, would you mind giving your opinion of Adara? I'm not a girl, so I'm not sure if everything about her lines up properly.

It was no problem! I enjoyed reviewing it x)
After reading chapter one, I feel like his loneliness is directly related to his lack of family. He seems to be witty and charming enough to gain as many friends as he pleases, but at this point, I think he's desperate for something more. He probably wants to gain Adara to fill some kind of hole, or at least say he has one solid relationship in his life. But Maybe I'm looking too much into it at this point x)
Even if you don't want to delve into Andrew's life, at least make his character significant. At the end of the story, you just don't want people to start referring to him as 'Jonah's friend'; make us remember him for something else. Make sure he can stand up on his own x)
I saw your response after I already posted my review for chap 1, so I hope I covered Adara well enough for your liking If not though, just send me a PM! I'll be happy to answer anything for you.