Stop and Stare (Part 14)

What's happened in this novel so far:

Spoiler

Austin, Charlie Black's friend, is responsible for accidentally stabbing and killing a young girl. A few weeks had passed after the stabbing when the boys met Zoey Cardle and her best friend, Beth. The girl Austin killed was Zoey's sister, Aimee Cardle, but no one is aware of that. Zoey, Austin and Charlie met up again some time later, and Charlie now wants to be tutored by Zoey's mum, Sophie. During their meeting, it was uncovered that Sophie knows Charlie back from when he was younger.

Charlie and Austin were walking home when they ran into Lee Pritchard, the boy who was fighting Austin when he stabbed Aimee Cardle. Lee accused Charlie of calling emergency services after the stabbing, but Charlie denied it. Austin didn't seem to believe Charlie though and snapped at him before leaving along with Lee. Charlie is now walking home alone.

Charlie - Continued

Austin hadn’t gained any common sense by leaving Lee, and right now, he was probably mugging an old lady. I wasn't expecting him to be waiting for me with open arms in my street--nothing like that---but I'd have thought he would have at least texted me or called me to say he'd ditched Lee, or caught up with me to ask about the whole ambulance thing some more. Just something...
My nails were almost ripping my skin because I was clenching my fists so hard. After thinking about it, I realised it was probably one of Lee’s buddies who called for that ambulance. They were probably too scared about what Lee would do if he found out. Either that, or it actually was Jax, but I doubted that one. I tried shaking the thoughts out of my head, but my mind was far too cluttered to get rid of much at all.
Like always, as I caught sight of my house, any trace of happiness that remained inside of me, even the smallest amount, withered into nothing. I trudged along the uneven pavement with my eyes gazing at the grey concrete and my hands in my pockets. As I’d expected, the place smelt like a mix of sewage and smoke. It was impossible not to notice the damaged houses that surrounded me once I lifted my gaze back up. Their gardens were overgrown, there were bricks missing from the outside walls and I even spotted some people standing in their gardens full of dead grass. As I passed, the majority of them grunted at me. Either that, or they glared at me as though I was hell’s gift to this earth. I really should have been used to all of this by now. With a small sigh, I let my head sag again until I knew I’d reached my house.
The front gate had fallen off completely now, so my dad had dumped it just behind the brick wall that lamely protected our excuse of a garden. I dragged my feet down the pathway that led to my front door and when I reached the door itself, it only took a hard nudge to open. The lock still wasn’t working then. It opened with a quiet creak and when I closed it behind me, I paused in the hallway. There was a muttering sound. I hesitated for a moment, remaining in the spot for a while longer. It was coming from my living room. I shoved the remaining shoe off my foot before heading over to the room.
By the time I was outside the door, the realisation of who was making those noises and why they were making them became heart-wrenchingly clear. Please, not now... I hesitated to open the door for a moment. I could’ve just gone to my room. I could’ve just left my dad in there, pretended that I hadn’t heard him. I licked my quivering lips. Did I really want to do that though? Could I do that? Could I just leave him there and let myself carry on being the most selfish prick I knew I had turned into over the years? I remained outside the door for a while. The mumbling sounds became louder. I couldn't do this, not now. Ignoring the ruins of the part of me that actually thought about others, I turned away from the door and neared my own bedroom as silently as I could.
With every step, my feet seemed to become heavier, and my dad's voice became louder. I couldn't quite make out the words he was saying, but every sound that came out of his mouth managed to make my body tense--make it harder for me to keep walking. I paused on the spot and shut my eyes. I couldn't go into my bedroom and ignore my dad, and besides, it wasn't his fault he was like this. He'd been through... a lot.
I opened my eyes. I could hear what he was saying now; it was something about Mum. I clenched my jaw and gazed at the mucky door. Sometimes I could calm him down when he was like this, and maybe I'd be able to do so this time. I remained standing in the middle of my small hallway as my veins throbbed underneath my skin. A long sigh soon escaped my mouth. I'd just go into there and check that he was alright, that was all. Yeah, that was it. Far quicker than I'd turned away, I was almost jogging back towards the living room. With a hard swallow, I subtly lowered the door handle.
My dad was exactly where I expected him to be when I walked in. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the stained wall in the corner of the room. With his head in his hands, he was muttering to himself. Muttering at the floor, rather. I didn’t think he noticed me at first. Instead, he continued with his mumbling. I inhaled a long breath of stale air.
“Dad?” I almost whispered--I sounded like a bloody six year old girl.
The moment the words left my lips, my dad’s head shot up. His eyes sliced themselves into mine. The talking to himself stopped and the only thing to be heard was both mine and my dad’s heavy breathing. Another brief moment passed.
It wasn’t long until the hysteria kicked in.
“Get away! Get away!” His eyeballs bulged. “I know you’re after me! I’ve been in the service long enough to know that, you pile of scum!”
I quickly intervened, but made sure to stay in the doorway. “No, Dad, it’s me... Charlie,” I tried.
“No! No! You liar!” he hissed. “He’s in England! With William, and... and Maddie! You liar!” He began manically rubbing his hands together. “I’m armed, you know. I’ll kill you!”
Just shut up.The first time I'd found my dad like this and he'd ranted about the weapons he claimed he had, I'd panicked. I'd panicked like hell. I knew all too well now though that every single thing he said, everything he claimed when he was in a state like this was total rubbish.
The yelling continued, but by now, my dad was screaming at the floor beneath him. Every single word that exploded out of his mouth was like a stab in my gut. My whole body was off balance. My hands were shaking. I tried biting down on my tongue to calm myself. I tried controlling my breathing. Nothing worked. I took a few steps forward, but when my dad’s head shot up again, I froze. A lump fell down my throat.
“... Dad? Dad, you’re home,” I tried again. “It’s me, Charlie.”
“Where’s Maddie? Where’s my wife? Tell me where she is or I’ll kill you! I will!”
Before I could say anything else, a loud ringing noise erupted from my pocket. My phone. The ringtone became louder, but I completely ignored it. I swallowed hard. I knew what was coming next.
My dad threw his hands up to cover his ears. "Turn it off! Turn it off!" He was yelling even louder than before. "You'll kill me with that device! What is it? You'll kill both of us! Get rid o--"
“It's just a phone!" I slid my mobile out of my pocket in a struggle. It was still ringing when I held it up for my dad to see.
"You liar! Is that device activated? Is it? I'll blow your head off before you set it off, I will!"
"Look! It's a phone, Dad! It's not going to hurt you!" My dad was silent again as he finally looked up and stared at my phone. "Just calm down..." I swallowed. "You’re in England, Dad, in Amber Fountains. You’re not out there anymore.” I struggled to keep my words steady as I took a few more steps forward and put my phone back into my pocket. “You’re ho--”
“Where's Maddie?” he screamed at me.
“She’s dead, Dad!” I shouted this time.
My voice broke as I yelled and my dad’s face dropped completely. Why couldn't he just shut up? My veins were throbbing underneath my skin as his nostrils snarled. His lip quivered, and then he was silent. I could hear my own breath again. His eyes softened and his stare became distant. My shoulders relaxed. Maybe he was calming down.
His eyes jerked back to me and he spoke in an eerily smooth tone. “You killed her.”
“No... No, I...” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to... I just...”
“You killed her. You killed her,” he was chanting under his breath.
The sweat returned to my palms, my hands began shaking again and it was as though my heart was beating inside my head. The muttering stopped, and once again, he was silent. I should’ve just gone to my room. I should’ve left my dad here. I had to be a bloody idiot and come into here though, didn’t I? I always had to do the stupid thing.
I was a mere few inches away from him now. I did nothing for a while, and I even had to remind myself to breathe for a few seconds. I concentrated on my dad--he'd definitely stopped chanting by now. With only the sound of my own breathing to comfort me, I kneeled down in front of him. His head was lowered, but I could see his eyes gazing into space below him. I shut my own eyes for a moment.
“Dad,” I whispered, opening them again. “You’re home with me, Charlie, your son. Mum, I mean, Maddie’s not here now, Will’s away with school.” Speaking Will's name made me grind my teeth together. While he was in France having the time of his bloody life, I was trapped here, trying to stop my dad from going completely insane. I turned back to my dad. "Do you understand?"
My dad looked up at me. His breath was stale, his pale face full of stubble. I followed his hand as it neared my face, and as he touched my cheek, I flinched. His bloodshot eyes were staring into mine as his head tilted sideways. I relaxed my body some more after he ran his hand down my cheek in a gentle motion.
Then he whacked me straight across the face.
A sharp pain electrified through the area below my eye and soon reached the nerves underneath my skin. I immediately fell backwards. The next thing I felt was the hard floor underneath me--the carpet was rough against my bare arms. A stinging feeling lingered in my cheek.
“Get away from me! Get away!” he was bellowing again. “I’m armed! I swear to God, I am!”
For a second there, I actually thought he'd calmed down. I actually thought I'd managed to snap him out of it, but all I'd done was gotten myself fooled by my dad again. Ignoring any pain that was electrifying through my body, I managed to scramble to my feet. The shouting increased. My thoughts were running a marathon in my head as I stumbled out of the room. I slammed the door behind me and within a few seconds I was in my bedroom. As suddenly as my dad had swung for me, I was out of his sight.
The dirty walls spun around me as the sound of my dad’s yelling drifted away and was replaced by a thumping in my head. Why was I such a pathetic idiot? Why did I let my dad do this? Why couldn't I just stop it? I rubbed my temples, but flinched as my fingers lined the area where my dad had hit me. As his screaming increased from the other side of my wall though, any pain in my cheek became numb.
I wasn't sure how I spent the next ten minutes or so. I only knew that I spent it feeling like I could smash everything around me to pieces. Every drop of the blood inside of me felt as though it was burning through my skin as I paced around my bedroom. Back and forth, back and forth. I was insanely stupid, embarrassingly stupid, ridiculously stupid. Just so bloody stupid. I was ignorant enough to let myself believe that I could actually help my dad, but all I was capable of was letting him fool me. I clenched my fists until they were so tight, my knuckles were a shocking white. Back and forth, back and forth. My fists were begging for something, anything to simply bash against. After releasing my fingers from their tight prison, I began running my hands through my hair in what was almost a frenzy. If I let myself, I probably could have ended up tearing it all out. Back and forth, back and forth.
My dad let out a sudden yell that shot into my ears and tampered with my mind. It was a struggle to even hear what he said because he shouted it so loudly. As I passed my bed, I kicked it. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why couldn't he be like Austin's dad? Even Jax's dad was better than mine. Fricking Jax was better than him. Back and forth, back and forth. My dad screamed again. I kicked my bed again. Shut up, just shut up. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't come home every day and be shit scared of what state of mind my dad was in. There was another shout, and this one was the loudest yet.
"Shut up! Shut up!" A burst of frustration spilled out of my mouth.
I kicked my wardrobe this time. My hands were more or less ripping my hair out now, but the physical crap wasn't bothering me. It was slightly distracting really, almost nice to have the physical pain trying to overwhelm the mush that was suffocating my mind.
"Shut up, shut up," I was muttering this time. "Shut up."
I tried to relax my hands; I couldn't let myself lose it. Not now. All I needed to do right now was sit down or something. I forced myself to stop pacing. For a moment, I paused and let out a long, uneasy breath. I was able to relax my hands completely and as I blinked slowly, I let out another breath. There we go, I could calm myself. I leaned against the cold wall of my bedroom and for a short while, I stared at the blinds that covered the window at the back of the room. My dad was still yelling, but I tried everything possible to blank it out.
I made my way towards my bed before lying down on it, and I seemed to do so in a daze. The mattress was like a rugged rock underneath me and my bedcovers were freezing. Why the damn hell was everything going wrong? My best mate had ditched me for Lee Pritchard, he didn’t trust me enough to believe me, and now my dad was having one of his whacked up fits. I felt like I was a pansy guinea pig in some experiment to see how many things I could screw up in as little time as possible.
And it all kicked off with Mum five years ago.
Maybe that was why everything was happening like it was now, maybe I was being punished for what I'd done. I definitely deserved it. I’d let my dad act the way he did because I was too unintelligent to be able to help him, I'd let him fool me before he decided to use me as his personal punching bag again, I’d left someone to bleed to death in a foul park, I was the biggest faggot going, and now I’d let my best mate ditch me for the prick of the neighbourhood. So far, I was doing a bloody good job of this experiment.
With my teeth grinding together, I grabbed a pillow from behind me. Before I could lob it at whatever it would soon hit, it smacked against a glass on my bedside cabinet. There was an echoing smash and as I looked down at my wooden bedroom floor, there was a cluster of disorderly glass pieces. Perfect. Bloody perfect. Cursing every swear word my mind knew of, I reached down to the floor. As I closed my hand, there was a sharp prick below my index finger.
“Shit!”
I brought my arm back up to see a rather long piece of glass poking out of the top of my left palm. Great. I pulled it out without any hesitation and a leakage of ruby blood escaped down my hand. A small but deep cut remained. I stared at the wound for a while. As my eyes followed the moving blood, It was as though anything dirty inside of me leaked out through it as I removed the glass. It was as though it cleansed me. I couldn’t help but notice that my breathing had settled slightly. The tips of my fingers were tingling as I fingered the smooth, transparent object in between them. It was almost magical. A soft smile broke onto my lips.
The sight of the blood was intriguing. Nice.
It was so vivid--the first vivid thing I'd seen or felt in months.
I inspected the bloodstained chip as I caressed it in between my fingers. The blood on the glass was just as bright as the fresh kind on my hand. I glided my right index finger along one of the sharp edges of the long, blunt chip. I grunted slightly as the sharp feeling slid through my skin. It was worth it though. More ribbons of red escaped. I sighed, blinking slowly. It stung, but only for an insignificant second because the moment the glass was lifted off my skin, any kind of physical pain vanished. It was replaced with a feeling of calmness. Relaxation even. I wasn't quite sure, but what I did know was that any physical pain was worth it.
I dug the glass into my middle finger. Like before, there was a brief pain, but the adrenaline afterwards formed a soft smile onto my face. This was kind of like my own little experiment, one that I liked. I couldn't hear my dad anymore; the thin glass and the patchy stains on it were somehow hypnotising. The cuts on my fingers were only small, but the amount of blood that escaped from them was magnificent. My fingertips started tingling again. I gazed at the blood as it slithered down and stopped at the bottom of my palm. My eyes turned to my pale, untouched wrist. My grip on the glass tightened, and I continued with my experiment until my sleeve was stained red.

Spoiler

Okay, so I've edited this now, so hopefully, I've managed to tweak it a little bit. I'd still like to know how clear is what's going on in this scene. Does it seem realistic? Is the ending too... I don't know, over the top or a bit silly, I guess. Thanks, guys!

Click here to read STOP AND STARE (PART FIFTEEN)

Hey skinsy! I noticed nobody had reviewed yet so I came to offer my services

Just a thought for next time, could you post in story format? It's just so much easier to read!

Skins wrote:Austin hadn’t gained any common sense and left Lee, and right now, he was probably mugging an old lady or something.

This is quite a run on and confusing sentence, maybe try and play about with it a little bit.

Skins wrote:After thinking about it, I realised it was probably one of Lee’s buddies that called for that ambulance.

Just think it flows better.

Skins wrote:I tried shaking the thoughts out of my head, but my mind was far too cluttered to get rid of much at all.
I trudged along the uneven pavement with my head down and my hands in my pockets. As I’d expected, the place smelt like a mix of sewage and smoke. After lifting my gaze back up, it was impossible not to notice the damaged houses that surrounded me.

A bit list-like or is that just me?

That's all I'm doing for nipicks! There may be more if I scour the text but I sense you're looking just for an overall summing-upping-ness. (Yes I am aware that wasn't a word. I say wasn't because it is now!) Well here's my overall thought:

Wow

Wow. I... uh... hold on, I need a moment. *gets up and makes a cup of tea*

*sits back down*

This chapter was intense, eh? Really well done, though. It's sort of an out-of-the-frying-pan-and-into-the-fire chapter. I've already told you that you're good with emotions, right? And that you're good with writing dark, depressing, action-y things, right? Well, I didn't lie. This chapter kept me hunched over my laptop with my eyes glued to the screen and my mind racing. Really, it's moving stuff. Starting off with the description of the neighborhood and stressing its dumpiness was a great way to set the mood, methinks, and the scene with the dad was just... chilling. Really, really well done, sir. Is it just me or have you improved a ton lately? Not that you needed to improve or anything, but... wow. I honestly think this is my favorite chapter yet. If I could, I would just keep reading at this point and probably devour three or four more chapters before I came up for air.

Of course, there are still a few things that I'd like to talk about.

Firstly, I'm having a hard time imagining the beginning of this section directly after the end of the last one. Mentioning happiness seems out of place, since we don't expect him to be happy and I can't even imagine what happiness would be left in him before seeing the house. I'd think his happiness level would be at about zero, and seeing his house would make it go into the negative. And I'm not sure what you're trying to say about Austin leaving Lee, or how that has to do with seeing his house. Was he expecting to see Austin outside his house or something?

I'd suggest clarifying whatever point you're making about Austin in the second sentence, and moving the first sentence to the beginning of the second paragraph (and maybe monkeying with things a little so the flow is good). That way, the first paragraph would be about Austin and Lee and Jax and the ambulance and all that jazz and the second paragraph would be about his neighborhood. That would help it tie in with the last chapter while still having that great descriptive passage.

I think he should be less willing to take care of his father. He should hesitate a lot more before opening the door. I mean, this isn't the first time his father's been like this, right? Charlie knows what to expect, right? So I think there should be more of the "I really can't deal with this right now" before he goes and deals with it. And I think you need to give more of a reason for him going and dealing with it. Maybe he hears his father say something that stirs pity in him? Maybe he feels like he's been an awful person lately and helping his father is something he could do to redeem himself? It needs to be something, I think, even if Charlie doesn't exactly know what--something driving him to go in that room. Maybe even make him pass the door and then go back? I dunno. I just think he should be more hesitant.

The scene with his dad was, I think, rather excellently pulled off. It gave me shivers. I loved the "my whole body was off balance" paragraph. Really well done. My only suggestion would be to make him not look at the caller ID on his cell phone. See, I think it's just a bit too obvious. We already know that there's something suspicious going on with Austin, and I have a feeling that he's calling to apologize/explain in some way, so knowing it's Austin makes me really want Charlie to answer the phone, because I know it will make things better for Charlie. If you want your readers to forget about the phone call just like Charlie does, then I'd suggest leaving it anonymous. Of course, this is an extremely opinionated suggestion--as with everything I say, feel free to ignore it.

As for the cutting: yes, it was a bit sudden. A bit silly, even. But isn't that how it should be? I mean, there's nothing logical to depression. I don't really know how to explain this, but... yeah, I don't know how to explain it. I'll just say that I think you did a really good job with it--you've built up how bad things are for him enough to make his depression understandable, and I also think the way you described the actual cutting was really effective--it wasn't about the pain. Actually, I'm not really sure he felt pain. He's just in a sort of trance. Scarily well done, my friend. The only thing I have to say is that you used the word "ruby" twice to describe the blood, and I think it would be stronger if you only used it once.

The only other question I have is about Will. They're twins, right? How come he's always off doing schoolstuff and Charlie isn't? I can't remember what's from which version of this novel (is Will at an arts school or something?), so I apologize if I'm asking a stupid question. It's just that there's this assumption that twins always do the same things together, and since Charlie and Will have little to no interaction, I'm kind of curious for an explanation.

Anyhow, this chapter was really well written. I'd say I like it, but that makes me sound seriously messed up because it's such dark subject matter. Really, I usually don't go for depressing angsty stuff, but this is really well done. I eagerly await the next installment. Oh, and my tea is cold. I didn't drink it.

PM/wallpost/bother me whenever you like.
a

Hey there Skins!

I would have posted sooner, if I'd have known you'd posted this, but I seem to be reviewing less and less these days so I rarely search through the forums unless I'm feeling reviewy. You should have posted on my wall to make me review it - it was seeing your plea for reviews that got me here. I hadn't been expecting this part for a while, but I'm glad you posted it anyway.

So, let me start off by saying wow! I completely agree with Azila when she said that this part was dark and intense, but in a good way, if that's possible You had me gripped from the start and I honestly feel so so sorry for Charlie. You write him in such a way that whenever something bad happens to him, I want to pull him out of the story and hug him.

I'm glad that you cleared up the whole thing about his dad. I'd just thought he was an alcoholic that was so absorbed in himself that he didn't have the time of day for Charlie, but in this part, we start to see that there's more than first meets the eye. He's obviously been through some sort of trauma or he's got some sort of illness to be acting the way he is. The whole scene with him shouting at Charlie was powerful stuff - you pulled off the angst in Charlie's head and the emotional rollercoaster that went on in the lounge, well. You touched on Charlie being responsible for his mum's death again, and I want to kill you for not telling me the whole story - it's so darn frustrating. Just give me the whole story already

I would like to see Will in it a bit more though. As they're twins, you'd think they'd have a sort of connection and, even if they hate each other's guts, I'd still like to think that Charlie would think about his brother every now and again.

You did well this week as I didn't find many typos, but then that could have been because I was so absorbed in the story - I doubt it though as your writing is so awesome.

I paused in the spot

I think 'in' would be better as 'on'

out the words he was speaking

Maybe 'saying' would sound better than 'speaking'

at the floor underneath him.

This is just my opinion, but I think 'beneath' would sound better than 'underneath'

My dad flew his hands up to cover his ears.

This is worded a tad awkwardly. Try either -

'My dad's hands flew up to cover his ears.'

or

'My dad threw his hands up to cover his ears.'

as hus nostrils snarled.

'his'

His eyes shot back to me

You've used 'shot' quite a few times already to describe his dad's movements. Maybe try something like 'jerked' or 'flew' instead.

I’d left someone bleed to death in a foul park

You need 'to' before 'bleed' as well.

***

I think you did a great job on this part, Skinsy. You don't need to be anxious about it at all. In fact, you've made me want to read on even more than I did before, so you better get posting soon

I didn't think the ending was silly at all. Self harming is a tough topic to write about, but you did it well. We see that, to Charlie, it's a release. He can let go of the thoughts he's harbouring and just zone out. It was sad to read though, as it was as though we were finally seeing just how damaged Charlie, and his life, is.

POST MORE SOON, LIKE!

I hope this helps!

xDudettex

Rhino. I told you I would get this done, and here I am. (Finally) But you know, Azila and Dudett's reviews are pretty intimidating. I don't know how much I can add, since I haven't read since the third chapter. SO. I'll do my best, but I'm not sure how good my best will be. xD

I agree with both Azila and Dudett about the dark intensity of this part. It was good, and it definitely kept me reading on. Your writing itself seemed a bit rushed in some areas, and your sentence structure occassionally got a little sketchy, but you know, Dudett got to most of that first. (My own fault for being so procrastinator-y yesterday.)

I also agree with Azila when she said that he should be a lot more hesitant to open the door and help his father. Even if he feels inclined to help his father, I think that he would be a bit more on-edge about it, and definitely more hesitant to open that door. I don't know, maybe he could even go to his own room, get half-way to his bed and have his conscience grab him after he hears something that really gets to him. Even then, he might still be a bit hesitant. (And that might just be more silly, just a thought that I wanted to throw in there) But Azila's right, he does need more of a drive for entering the room. Especially if he's used to it happening.

You did, however nail the scene itself. xD But Azila's already said that, too. It wasn't just intensity there - you could feel the emotion behind everything, and I really did start feeling as sorry for Charlie's father as Charlie did.

Aaaand, Azila also went in-depth about the cutting thing. I agree with her there, too. (Big surprise by now, I'm sure.) It's silly, and it's sudden, but yeah, that's how it usually is in real life, too. And the fact that it started "by accident" worked for me. He didn't just pick up a shard of glass and start slicing at himself because he wanted to, he felt it, saw the blood and got hooked after that. In my opinion, it makes a lot more sense than him going, "Hm. I'm going to start cutting. Now all I need is a sharp and/or pointy object." So yeah, you got that down well, too. xD

And that's about all I have to say - sorry for all of the repetition and such, I think I got here a couple of days too late. xD It was definitely a dark and intense couple of subjects to grasp onto, but generally did a very good job of it. ^^ (You usually do, though, so I'm not too surprised there.)

And now I feel inclined to go back and re-read the entire novel so that I actually know exactly what's happening. Yeah. I'll do that. Eventually.

Keep writing Rhino,
~~Pisha.

O.O

My sister.....she was cutting. I hope she isn't anymore. So.... just o.o. Just o.o.

Oh, and since I don't think I can top the former reviewers, here's your flame. Enjoy. (I hope no one hurts me for this. XD)

OMG HOW CAN YOU RITE THIS????????????? LIEK SRSLY THIS IS SO TERRIBLY HORRIBLE I CNT EVN BEGN 2 DESCRIBE IT HOW CULD U MAEK UR MAIN CHAR GO THRU ALL THIS?!!????????!!!!!!!! THTS JUST SOOO MEAN!!!!!!!!!! UR SO HORRBL N WUT WUZ WRNG WIF THE DAD WAS HE BIPOLR OR SUMTHIN????????????? ITS ALL SO CONFSNG!!!!!!!!!!!! UR A HORRIBLE RITR I CNT BELIVE THEY ALLOW U 2 EVN POST HERE Y IS THIS TO TRRBL????????????????? IT BRNS MY EYS THT'S HOW TRRBLE IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Seriously though, I kinda liked this. I haven't been following the story too closely, but I read the first chapter, and it was easy to tell the dad had been in a war. I liked that--how you gave a reason for the dad's drunkenness.

OHRIGHT. The part where you say his nails were almost ripping his skin--shouldn't that be cutting or something? (Or maybe it's just because that's the way I'm used to seeing it.)

On the whole, this was pretty good. You have a lot of emotion in your writing.

Enjoy the flames! *vanishes in smoke and muahahaha-ing*

Wowee, serves me right for arriving so late.

For once, though, Azila hasn't said everything I needed to say. *cracks knuckles*

So here I go!

Austin hadn’t gained any common sense and left Lee, and right now, he was probably mugging an old lady or something.

Ok. So who was mugging the old lady? Lee, Austin or both? Lee, I get. Austin? Not so much. So if Charlie was referring to Austin, shouldn't the thought be taken a step further to explain why he thought this of his best friend?

I hadn’t even bothered to grab any food on my way home and I'd even left my one shoe in the forest.

This. This was completely random. Why mention food if he isn't going to mention how hungry he is? And why think of food when he's still completely shocked by Austin's abandonment? Also, he says he left his one shoe in the forest. Which begs the question: what happened to the other one? Except, he mentions removing his remaining shoe when getting to the house....?

I jogged down the pathway that led to my front door and when I reached the door itself, it only took a hard nudge to open

This bothered me. Why you ask? Well, because. If he's dreading going home that much, why jog to his door? Because people were staring? Why would he even care, considering how bad it is at home? Aren't the looks easy to endure compared to his father's tantrums and beatings?

Could I just leave him there and let myself carry on being the most selfish prick I knew I had turned into over the years?

Ah. This. This could have worked, if it weren't for the fact that his father hit him. How can he consider himself selfish when I consider it self-preservation? He knows what's coming, knows what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. That is what he should be thinking about.

Azila and Dudette (I believe) mentioned it would be good of him to hesitate more. What of this: he could replay the conversation with Zo's mom about him being a hero of war. And that might decide him. I mean, play around with the idea, but he suddenly shoves aside his fear because she is right, he was a hero of war and the hero needed help.

I have a question. I'm not too savvy on all of this, but I do believe that family's can go through therapy when husbands come home from the army. The therapy helps them to understand that the man who left isn't necessarily the same who came back and the family are giving tips to cope with the ensuing trauma. Have they had any kind of therapy? Or was Maddie dead when he came back? Just a thought...

Also, his father mentions a couple of times that he's armed. My first thought was that Charlie would check for said weapons. He didn't. Because his father never does? Or you know he doesn't so you don't make Charlie look? Because if my first thought was to swoop the ground for weapons, why wouldn't other readers? He needs to take the threat either seriously, and at least look around, or mentally roll his eyes, thinking that his father pulled this crap everytime. Then again, maybe he got a kitchen knife or something...

My dad looked up at me. His breath was stale, his pale face full of stubble. I followed his hand as it neared my face, and as he touched my cheek, I flinched. His bloodshot eyes were staring into mine as his head tilted sideways. I relaxed my body some more after he ran his hand down my cheek in a gentle motion.
Then he whacked me straight across the face.
A sharp pain electrified through the area below my eye and soon reached the nerves underneath my skin. I immediately fell backwards. The next thing I felt was the hard floor underneath me--the carpet was rough against my bare arms. A stinging feeling lingered in my cheek.

I find his lack of reaction....disconcerting. Either he's never been hit before and this is a complete shock or he has and he's angry that he was had . . . again.

I'm going to be honest and say the rest of this chapter bothers me. He goes on and on about how pathetic he is but really, what he should be is mad. He's 'lost' Austin, he comes home, was going to ignore his father, decided to give him a chance, only to get used as a punching bag again. (Which begs the question, if Charlie was down and his dad's off his rocker, why didn't he jump on him and keep hitting while he had the advantage?)
He should be kicking stuff and screaming, tearing his hair out. Angry at his dad, and yes, at himself to have fallen for his dad's tricks again. But no, he goes and on about how pityful he is. And that just annoyed me because I feel like these past few chapters, we were moving forward with Charlie's attitude in life, only to take a step backwards just now.

And the cutting scene was just weird. After all those emotions, he suddenly smiles at the pretty blood? Um, where did this come from? Aside from cutting himself with the letter previously, has a mentioned a penchant for hurting himself?


Ok, enough with all this nitpicking. Much like the other reviewers, I thought your emotions and descriptions were amazing and my eyes were glued to the screen as well. Couldn't wait to finish one sentence to read the next. You've done an amazing job with that.

Well, Skinsy, I hope you won't regret asking for this review lol. You know I love your writing. But this one needs a little more tweaking.

Tanya

*Steals some of 'Zila's tea*

Hai.

So, I'm pretty much up to date with this, I take a couple of sneek-peeks every so often.I just might like thisThe last review I did was on the last part anyway so I've already got the ball rolling. By the way, even if you didn't write another good chapter in this novel, your doing well by just continueing something.

Why do I rant at the beginning of each review? Meh, -.-

Charlie - Continued

Austin hadn’t gained any common sense and Add in Had here.left Lee,Full stop and start a new sentence. and Right now, he was probably mugging an old lady or something. I wasn't expecting him to be waiting for me with open arms in myWait, he has his own street? Not a chance, the street. street or anything--nothing like that---but I'd have thought he would have at least text me or something to say he'd ditched Lee, or caught up with me to ask about the whole ambulance thing some more. Just something...
I hadn’t even bothered to grab any food on my way home and I'd even left my oneThis sounds slightly awkward. Either scratch one or use left/right which ever one it is. shoe in the forest. My nails were almost rippingCutting into my skin, ripping doesn't make sense.You can't rip something when it's attached to something, but you can cut. my skin because I was clenching my fists so hard. After thinking about it, I realised it was probably one of Lee’s buddies that called for that ambulance. They were probably too scared about what Lee would do if he found out. Either that, or it actually was Jax, but I doubted that one. I tried shaking the thoughts out of my head, but my mind was far too cluttered to get rid of much at all.
Like always, as I caught sight of my house, any trace of happiness that remained inside of me, even the smallest amount, withered into nothing. I trudged along the uneven pavement with my head down and my hands in my pockets. As I’d expected, the place smelt like a mix of sewage and smoke. It was impossible not to notice the damaged houses that surrounded me once I lifted my gaze back up. Their gardens were overgrown, there were bricks missing from the outside walls and I even spotted some people standing in their gardens full of dead grass. As I passed, the majority of them grunted at me. Either that, or they glared at me as though I was hell’s gift to this earth. I really should have been used to all of this by now. With a small sigh, I dropped my head back downEnough of that, use a different phrase. We've had I dropped my head down, I lifted it up etc Change the scene,vocab. Maybe try; I let my head sag. Or something. again until I knew I’d reached my house.
The front gate had fallen off completely now, so my dad had dumped it just behind the brick wall that lamely protected our excuse of a garden. I dragged my feet down the pathway that led to my front door and when I reached the door itself, it only took a hard nudge to open. The lock still wasn’t working then. It opened with a quiet creak and when I closed it behind me, I paused in the hallway. There was a muttering sound.I heard the sound of someone muttering. I hesitated for a moment, remaining in the spot for a while longer. It was coming from my living room. I shoved the remaining shoe off my foot before heading over to the room.
By the time I was outside the door, the realisation of who was making those noises and why they were making them became heart-wrenchingly clear. Please, not now... I hesitated to open the door for a moment. I could’ve just gone to my room. I could’ve just left my dad in there, pretended that I hadn’t heard him. I licked my quivering lips. Did I really want to do that though? Could I do that? Could I just leave him there and let myself carry on being the most selfish prick I knew I had turned into over the years? I remained outside the door for a while. The mumbling sounds became louder. I couldn't do this, not now. Ignoring the ruins of the part of me that actually thought about others, I turned away from the door and neared my own bedroom as silently as I could.
With every step, my feet seemed to become heavier, and my dad's voice became louder. I couldn't quite make out the words he was saying, but every sound that came out of his mouth managed to make my body tense--make it harder for me to keep walking. I paused on the spot and shut my eyes. I couldn't go into my bedroom and ignore my dad, and besides, it wasn't his fault he was like this. He'd been through... a lot.
I opened my eyes. I could hear what he was saying now; it was something about Mum. I clenched my jaw and gazed at the mucky door. Sometimes I could calm him down when he was like this, and maybe I'd be able to do so this time. I remained standing in the middle of my small hallway as my veins throbbed underneath my skin. A long sigh soon escaped my mouth. I'd just go into there and check that he was alright, that was all. Yeah, that was it. Far quicker than I'd turned away, I was almost jogging back towards the living room. With a hard swallow, I subtly lowered the door handle.
My dad was exactly where I expected him to be when I walked in. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the stained wall in the corner of the room. With his head in his hands, he was muttering to himself. Muttering at the floor, rather. I didn’t think he noticed me at first. Instead, he continued with his mumbling. I inhaled a long breath of stale air.
“Dad?” I almost whispered--I sounded like a bloody six year old girl.
The moment the words left my lips, my dad’s head shot up. His eyes sliced themselves into mine. The talking to himself stopped and the only thing to be heard was both mine and my dad’s heavy breathing. Another brief moment passed.
It wasn’t long until the hysteria kicked in.
“Get away! Get away!” His eyeballs bulged. “I know you’re after me! I’ve been in the service long enough to know that, you pile of scum!”
I quickly intervened, but made sure to stay in the doorway. “No, Dad, it’s me... Charlie,” I tried.
“No! No! You liar!” he hissed. “He’s in England! With William, and... and Maddie! You liar!” He began manically rubbing his hands together. “I’m armed, you know. I’ll kill you!”
Just shut up.The first time I'd found my dad like this and he'd ranted about the apparentThat word doesn't do it for me. Made invisible weapons might do the trick? weapons he had, I'd panicked. I'd panicked like hell. I knew all too well now though that every single thing he said, everything he claimed when he was in a state like this was total rubbish.
The yelling continued, but by now, my dad was screaming at the floor beneath him. Every single word that exploded out of his mouth was like a stab in my gut. My whole body was off balance. My hands were shaking. I tried biting down on my tongue to calm myself. I tried controlling my breathing. Nothing worked. I took a few steps forward, but when my dad’s head shot up again, I froze. A lump fell down my throat.
“... Dad? Dad, you’re home,” I tried again. “It’s me, Charlie.”
“Where’s Maddie? Where’s my wife? Tell me where she is or I’ll kill you! I will!”
Before I could say anything else, a loud ringing noise erupted from my pocket. My phone. The ringtone became louder, but I completely ignored it. I swallowed hard. I knew what was coming next.
My dad threw his hands up to cover his ears. "Turn it off! Turn it off!" He was yelling even louder than before. "You'll kill me with that device! What is it? You'll kill both of us! Get rid o--"
“It's just a phone!" I slid my mobile out of my pocket in a struggle. It was still ringing when I held it up for my dad to see.
"You liar! Is that device activated? Is it? I'll blow your head off before you set it off, I will!"
"Look! It's a phone, Dad! It's not going to hurt you!" My dad was silent again as he finally looked up and stared at my phone. "Just calm down..." I swallowed. "You’re in England, Dad, in Amber Fountains. You’re not out there anymore.” I struggled to keep my words steady as I took a few more steps forward and put my phone back into my pocket. “You’re ho--”
“Where's Maddie?” he screamed at me.
“She’s dead, Dad!” I shouted this time.
My voice broke as I yelled and my dad’s face dropped completely. Why couldn't he just shut up? My veins were throbbing underneath my skin as his nostrils snarled. His lip quivered, and then he was silent. I could hear my own breath again. His eyes softened and his stare became distant. My shoulders relaxed. Maybe he was calming down.
His eyes jerked back to me and he spoke in an eerily smooth tone. “You killed her.”
“No... No, I...” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to... I just...”
“You killed her. You killed her,” he was chanting under his breath.
The sweat returned to my palms, my hands began shaking again and it was as though my heart was beating inside my head. The muttering stopped, and once again, he was silent. I should’ve just gone to my room. I should’ve left my dad here. I had to be a bloody idiot and come into here though, didn’t I? I always had to do the stupid thing.
I was a mere few inches away from him now. I did nothing for a while, and I even had to remind myself to breathe for a few seconds. I concentrated on my dad--he'd definitely stopped chanting by now. With only the sound of my own breathing to comfort me, I kneeled down in front of him. His head was lowered, but I could see his eyes gazing into space below him. I shut my own eyes for a moment.
“Dad,” I whispered, opening them again. “You’re home with me, Charlie, your son. Mum, I mean, Maddie’s not here now, Will’s away with school.” Speaking Will's name made me grind my teeth together. While he was in France having the time of his bloody life, I was trapped here, trying to stop my dad from going completely insane. I turned back to my dad. "Do you understand?"
My dad looked up at me. His breath was stale, his pale face full of stubble. I followed his hand as it neared my face, and as he touched my cheek, I flinched. His bloodshot eyes were staring into mine as his head tilted sideways. I relaxed my body some more after he ran his hand down my cheek in a gentle motion.
Then he whacked me straight across the face.
A sharp pain electrified through the area below my eye and soon reached the nerves underneath my skin. I immediately fell backwards. The next thing I felt was the hard floor underneath me--the carpet was rough against my bare arms. A stinging feeling lingered in my cheek.
“Get away from me! Get away!” he was bellowing again. “I’m armed! I swear to God, I am!”
For a second there, I actually thought he'd calmed down. I actually thought I'd managed to snap him out of it, but all I'd done was gotten myself fooled by my dad again.Meh, this sentence is If.You chopped up my beautiful suspense!Now, let me get back to what's happening please. Ignoring any pain my body heldNot held, felt., I managed to scramble to my feet. The shouting increased. My thoughts were running a marathon in my head as I stumbled out of the room. I slammed the door behind me and within a few seconds I was in my bedroom. As suddenly as my dad had swung for me, I was out of his sight.
The dirty walls spun around me as the sound of my dad’s yelling drifted away and was replaced by a thumping in my head. Why was I such a pathetic idiot? Why did I let my dad do this? Why couldn't I just stop it? I rubbed my temples, but flinched as my fingers lined the area where my dad had hit me. As his screaming increased from the other side of my wall though, any pain in my cheek became numb.
I wasn't sure how I spent the next ten minutes or so. I only knew that I spent it feeling like I could smash everything around me to pieces. Every drop of the blood inside ofYou didn't need ofhere. me felt as though it was burning Add in through my skin. Sounds better.my skin as I paced around my bedroom. Back and forth, back and forth. I was insanely stupid, embarrassingly stupid, ridiculously stupid. Just so bloody stupid. I was ignorant enough to let myself believe that I could actually help my dad, but all I was capable of was letting him fool me. I clenched my fists until they were so tight, my knuckles were a shocking white. Back and forth, back and forth. My fists were begging for something, anything to simply bash against. After releasing my fingers from their tight prison, I began running my hands through my hair in what was almost a frenzy. If I let myself, I probably could have ended up tearing it all out. Back and forth, back and forth.
My dad let out a sudden yell that electrified through my ears and tampered with my mind. It was a struggle to even hear what he said because he shouted it so loudly. As I passed my bed, I kicked it. Why couldn't he just be normal? Why couldn't he be like Austin's dad? Even Jax's dad was better than mine. Fricking Jax was better than him. Back and forth, back and forth. My dad screamed again. I kicked my bed again. Shut up, just shut up. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't come home every day and be shit scared of what state of mind my dad was in. There was another shout, and this one was the loudest yet.
"Shut up! Shut up!" A burst of frustration spilled out of my mouth.
I kicked my wardrobe this time. My hands were more or less ripping my hair out now, but the physical crap wasn't bothering me. It was slightly distracting really, almost nice to have the physical pain trying to overwhelm the mush that was suffocating my mind.
"Shut up, shut up," I was muttering this time. "Shut up."
I tried to relax my hands; I couldn't let myself lose it. Not now. All I needed to do right now was sit down or something. I forced myself to stop pacing. For a moment, I paused and let out a long, uneasy breath. I was able to relax my hands completely and as I blinked slowly, I let out another breath. There we go, I could calm myself. I leaned against the cold wall of my bedroom and for a short while, I stared at the blinds that covered the window at the back of the room. My dad was still yelling, but I tried everything possible to blank it out.
I made my way towards my bed before lying down on it, and I seemed to do so in a daze. The mattress was like a rugged rock underneath me and my bedcovers were freezing. Why the damn hell was everything going wrong? My best mate had ditched me for Lee Pritchard, he didn’t trust me enough to believe me, and now my dad was having one of his whacked up fits. I felt like I was a pansy guinea pig in some experiment to see how many things I could screw up in as little time as possible.
And it all kicked off with Mum five years ago.
Maybe that was why everything was happening like it was now, maybe I was being punished for what I'd done. I definitely deserved it. I’d let my dad act the way he did because I was too unintelligent to be able to help him, I'd let him fool me before he decided to use me as his personal punching bag again, I’d left someone to bleed to death in a foul park, I was the biggest faggot going, and now I’d let my best mate ditch me for the prick of the neighbourhood. So far, I was doing a bloody good job of this experiment.
With my teeth grinding together, I grabbed a pillow from behind me. Before I could lob it at whatever it would soon hit, it smacked against a glass on my bedside cabinet. There was an echoing smash and as I looked down at my wooden bedroom floor, there was a cluster of disorderly glass pieces. Perfect. Bloody perfect. Cursing every swear word my mind knew of, I reached down to the floor. As I closed my hand, there was a sharp prick below my index finger.
“Shit!”
I brought my arm back up to see a rather long piece of glass poking out of the top of my left palm. Great. I pulled it out without any hesitation and a leakage of ruby blood escaped down my hand. I stared at the wound for a while. It was almost as though anything dirty inside of me leaked out along with the glass as I removed it. I couldn’t help but notice that my breathing had settled slightly. A soft smile broke onto my lips.
The sight of the blood was intriguing. Nice.
It was so vivid--the first vivid thing I'd seen or felt in months.
I inspected the bloodstained chip as I caressed it in-between my fingers. The blood on the glass was just as bright as the fresh kind on my hand. I glided my finger along one of the sharp edges of the blunt chip. I grunted slightly as the sharp feeling slid through my skin. It was worth it though. More ribbons of red escaped. I sighed, blinking slowly. This was kind of like my own little experiment, one that I liked. I couldn’t hear my dad anymore; the thin glass and the patchy stains on it were somehow hypnotising. I gazed at the blood as it slithered down and stopped at the bottom of my palm. My eyes turned to my pale, untouched wrist, and then I continued with my experiment until all my sleeves were stained red.

Skins, I don't think I can put into words how brilliant this is. I'm shaking. I didn't expect this, something this good. We went from a kind of bland, walk in the park chapter to this? How? But in the name of Garfield, I haven't read something like this in a while. Saying that, your grammar, punctuation,vocab could improve a far bit. It was slightly messy, maybe a bit repetative but nothing that's not easily fixed when worked at. I'd say, you've reached the heights of suspense, in a twisted, whopping plot so, if I'm honest I'd take a break from writing chapters for maybe a day or two, (can't be too long without knowing what's happening next) and work on throwing in new words, new writing styles to give your writing a more professional, neat look. Grammar wise, you have loose ends sticking out in irregular places but it shouldn't take long to knit them back together. You simply need to spend time,practise the things you find most difficult.

I've read a lot of things in my time, and I'm always in awe of people who show off exotic vocabulary, who are able to create images that describe exactly what they write and who seem to find the right flow to make me cry,laugh or smile. But I'm also in awe, of people,like you, who can continue novels with the same amount of passion from when the started. Your plot is so exciting, so original and so real that I feel every little last thing. That's an art, skins, and one you should be proud of. But being able to show off vocab and make people see through words is also an art. An art you need to learn to master. And it's hard, but to give your novel it's extra umph then you need to spend time working on basic rules of grammar and such. Where you place words for instance, can be a big-ish problem. Little things like this can sometimes drop the standard which would be terrible seeing as, I can feel the amount of effort you put into this. So grammar, placing words, vocab images-Plan out how you mean to get better at this.

I love how pace your work. It's easy reading at the beginning, Charlie's thought's. Comfort reading, I'd say. But from then on, it's full throttle. Constant, on the go. You move fast, but slow enough for us to feel like we know what's happening. Maybe I've missed it, but as far as I know, you haven't ever described Charlie's dad full on. But I feel as though I know him, through the way he acts, the way he talks, the way he treats his son. From the way you write, I know. I know things you don't tell and that's amazing. I enjoy it. That's a hard thing to tackle, to write well and get people to enjoy it. Good job.

Two things bothered me. Will? I know I haven't really been following this as intensely as I should have (I am now) but why is there so little mention of him? It's kind of like you resurrected him from the closet and decided to talk about him again. If Charlie is peeved, then he should say it more. Call him up, let him know? If you don't want to do that then at least, give us a reason why he wouldn't call him. Because, it feels a little unrealistic at the minute-I Know If I'm dealing with something that should be a shared job, and the othe person is off having the time of his life, then I'll call. Tell them how it is, how I feel at least. Give us a bit of that, let us in on every aspect of Charlie's feelings because right now, we're completely involved with what stage Charlie's at in the story.

Next thing. When describing the cutting, you didn't really explain things in the detail needed. Cutting, I feel, is a huge leap in the novel. It's another twist and we're experiancing this terrible moment for the first time. And it's over in mili-seconds. You used words like ruby,ribbons,vivid,nice but thats not enough. How big were the cuts? Small paper-cut size(I doubt) or huge, gash, rip out chunks of my skin size? Was his fingers throbbing in a pleasent way? Were they aching? Did the feeling of being clean over cloud the feeling of hurt? How big were the cunks of glass? Too many un-answered questions already. For a big moment, I think you under-did this. Now, don't go and over do it, but make it as gorey and real as possible, so we will have butterflies in our gut every time we think of glass. Cutting is big. The event should be too.

This is my favorite chapter, it's the msot vivid-I think you enjoy doing the full-pace action chapters. I genuinely couldn't have done this better,but that doesn't mean you can't. You need to change the bits I highlighted and you need to, as I said, work on the things you have problems with. Your plot is good, make sure to illustrate clearly what you mean and how you mean it! I'll be bate into the next chapter, eyes glued.

Earned yourself a like dear,
Need anything, got questions? Drop a note on me profile or PM me. Whatever.

Kagi xx

Hai. So, I'm really sorry it's taken me so long to get around to reviewing. :/

I went ahead and read all of chapter four and I'm going to merge all of my comments into one review, since most of what I have to say about the previous chapters won't really constitute much of an actual review.

First and foremost, your writing is excellent. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating. Seriously, I envy the way you can make your characters come to life so well and make me feel for them and really grow attached. I mean, both Zoey and Charlie are people I just want to hug, especially through each of their situations, and I'm really growing anxious about the inevitable realization of how Charlie was there with Aimee... *shivers in anticipation*

Anyway, for the earlier part of chapter four, the one critique I had was regarding Charlie being "homeschooled". Call me picky, but wouldn't it just be taking lessons from someone, especially since the subject is music? It just doesn't seem like something that would merit him calling himself homeschooled; I'm pretty sure plenty of public schooled kids take private lessons, and that's more like a tutor arrangement or something, not homeschooling. Again, though, that's just a slight nitpick on my part.

Another thing I was wondering as I was reading was why Zoey cared so much about whether Charlie was going to take lessons from her mom. Does she like him, or is she at least interested? I haven't got much of an impression that she's sweet on him or anything, so it doesn't make a lot of sense to me why she's so worried about whether he's going to end up taking lessons or not. Or maybe I'm just missing something here. It just seemed a little off to me.

Lastly -- noooo Charlie, don't start cutting yourself! It's so not worth it in the end! I'm really worried for him. D: Again, that's a wonderful talent of yours when you make something happen that's believable and get people upset about it, because they feel so much for the characters. *sighs*

All right, so that's my pansy review; sorry again about how long it took me to get to it. Keep up the fantastic work!

Hey Skins.

I am here to review again.

Overall:

Wanna who is the reason who forces me to re-write, but actually is helping me to grow? YOU! Whenever I read something by you, I start considering my writing crap, which I do know for a fact it is. Although you make me write again(not you practically, but your awesome crunching writing) I have to thank you because through writing and practising hard, I've become a better writer than I was before. So THANK YOU!

Okay, enough of emotional stuff. Now back to square one. I am a reviewer now. Anyhow, your writing as usual was almost flawless and even though you had some tiny errors here and there, I'd just blame your quick writing speed for it than anything else. Nothing you could not have fixed without my useless help, so it's all great.

As usual, I am speechless(or rather wordless) on how awesome job you did. But...I'd like to say specially that your writing here was beautiful. Something emotional and tearing you apart kinds. This was the kind of writing I like. Not that it was tremendously different from anything you've had before, but it just felt 'warm' reading. Especially the big third paragraph. It was like I could actually feel it all. The beauty with which you described everything was just mind-blowing.

Following on what I said for descriptions in my last review, I'd like to say that you did a better and satisfying job here with them. Unlike other chapters(apart from one where I appreciated your descriptions) you portrayed everything 'essential'. Neither did you overburden your writing with them, and neither neglected anything you should be mentioning. Also, sticking to my previous review I would like to say that you should consider revising the 'forest scene' and add more visual descriptions than 'physical'. I hope you understand what I mean.


Having said nothing special till now, I'd like to suffice something more to my review. It's something that I had been telling you before also and Kagi has pointed it correctly now. What I intend to say is that Will here seems to be coming like a blow. It's like he's just been born even though I know you had plans of keeping him in the story from the start. But the problem is that apart from me and you and some handful of people hardly anybody had a hint and I am wondering if they still know what's his relation with Charlie. You should have dropped hints or had a little talk about him now and then. That's what I want you to do. Treat him like you've treated other characters, like for example Maddie, even though she hasn't got a 'presence' role till now but we know who she is and a little about her. Make Will a part, too, however it depends how much mention you'd like to give him considering his role.


Another point that I'd like to make here is about your style of writing. I won't blabber here, and just leave a small note. As I've critiqued in one of my line reviews, I think sometimes you tend to use a lot of 'informal' language between the narration. It's not a big crime, but it's just that I think it looks a bit inappropriate. Yes, I do agree that it gives the feel of the character, but sometimes you have to leave it to the dialog. I am not sure if you would agree with me, but that's something I had in my mind, so just though of blurting it out.


Write more and post....but when your exams are done. Or I'll whack you on your cheek like Charlie's dad. Sounds tempting?

Until then,
Mia!

Hello Skins, I'm here as requested.

There's a lot of reviews already, and I'll be honest and say that I don't really want to read them all. I'll try not to mention some things that were already said, but I'm sorry if I do.

Let's begin with the nitpicks, shall we?

He stopped talking to himself and the only thing to be heard was both mine and my dad’s heavy breathing.

I think it sounds better that way and it's less confusing, but it might just be me.
The plot seems fine, and I really like all the emotions you've put into this. Also I like the ending, and how you've written about a subject that could be so shocking, but with the context and the way you've described how he felt, it fits right in.

The description is great, with his father and his neighborhood. I felt like I was actually there, and that's exactly what readers will find interesting. We search for a get away from the real world, from our world. I think you've accomplished that very well in this chapter, and I'm pretty sure the rest of your novel is exactly the same.

I didn't read the other chapters, so I can't really tell you how you've done on that part... But I have to say that just by reading this chapter, you're story seems really interesting.

Sorry for the short review, hope I could've helped more.

-Other One