Young Writers Society


Life Without Essence

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This is a story I wrote for my creative writing class. I'm a little out of practice, so any constructive criticism is gladly welcomed. :mrgreen:

Life Without Essence

Rebecca sat in her usual corner at the back of Starbucks with her morning cup of hot chocolate, silent and alone. The place was packed as always, and the noise of so many people washed over her as a wave of an incoherent racket. Normally she kept to herself, and ignored the hectic commotion around her, but not today. No, not every day had or could be the same exact way and that, was just a part of life.

A couple tables away, a certain group of boisterous teens held her attention. They were all trying to converse with one another over the loud din that surrounded them, just adding to the tumult. They huddled closer together, and their voices disappeared from the collective. After a minute they pulled away laughing, sharing in some secret that only they knew.

Tucking her long black hair behind her ears, Rebecca lowered her brown eyed gaze back to her own thin hands and to the cup which they grasped. They had it so easy, for them life was all fun and games, able to live without a care in the world.

Some part of her longed to be one of them yearned to be able to forget everything and just live for the moment. But as she came back to reality, she knew that would never be an option.

Glancing back up at the people that surrounded her, she took in the swarming mass, as they, like her, began their morning. They may have been similar in the aspect of their morning activities, she mused, but they were different in almost every other way.

She could see it in subtle movements, gestures, words, and tones, as people interacted with one another. Everyone that surrounded her conveyed some sort of purpose, certainty, and emotion. Everyone had a life, they were bustling around trying to achieve a means to an end, complete a goal, or just be, but everyone was living. Everyone, but her.

Bored, and even more disheartened than usual, Rebecca picked up her cup of now cold chocolate and made her way to the door, brushing past people, each, which had their own stories to tell, that she would never know. Depositing her still full cup in the garbage, Rebecca turned and gave the group of ignorant teen’s one last look. Smiling wistfully, she exited Starbucks and once again joined the meaningless void that was her world.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rebecca slowly made her way up the steps of her small apartment, oblivious to the wet, grey scenery around her, or the clean smell that lingered from the recent rainfall. Reaching the door, she shook the few late raindrops off of her umbrella and entering, set it next to the door to dry out, closing the door behind her without a second glance. Placing her uncomfortable stilettos and briefcase next to the wet umbrella, she left her uneventful day at work with them.

Crossing the room to the lone recliner by the window, Rebecca eased herself into it, and surveyed the area, that was her sanctuary.

The room where she sat was the largest in her apartment and was as a whole, plain. Thin blue carpeting covered the floor, and white paint layered the walls. A couch and coffee table sat in front of the hearth. A shelf against one corner, held an assortment of books and a stereo, with a few CD’s crowning it.

The room in and of its self was not messy, but the collection of painting canvases that leaned one on top of the other, demanding the space of an entire wall, gave it a crowded and overall cluttered feel. A reminder of an unfulfilled dream.

Across the hall, were the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen, and dinning room that were equally modest without the slightest grandeur. The walls were bare of any splendor, and the only ornament in the sitting room was a small picture above the hearth. It portrayed a younger Rebecca holding a small sleeping figure wrapped in a soft pink blanket. She was sitting on a park bench next to a handsome man, and they were smiling with happiness at the photographer.

Rebecca looked away; sometimes she didn’t even know why she’d kept that photo. It only reminded her of everything she’d lost, and brought painful memories to mind, that were better left forgotten. Slipping her hand into her pocket, a familiar, cold metal greeted her. It’s presence the only reassuring thing in her life. A solid, sure beacon, that reminded her, she could still be worth something to someone, even if she was broken.

Removing it from its safehold, Rebecca held up a faded object. A compass. It was of an old-fashioned design, its former glory lost somewhere in the past. A tarnished object, with no point or worth. When she flipped it opened, a broken needle spun pointlessly around, the weight of gravity it’s only guide. Closing it, Rebecca returned the broken compass to its rightful place.

It may not have had any worldly worth, but her grandfather had given it to her the day he’d died, and warned her to always keep it with her, because one day, it would guide her home. She had believed that at the time, when she was eight years old, but now twenty years later, it had lost that allure and only brought with it a simple comfort that helped keep her sane.
Glancing out the window as a fresh burst of rain fell, Rebecca felt numb. Her life meant nothing, she was nothing, and she never would be. The sole reason she was here, was to fulfill the promise she had made five years ago, that she would live, live for all three of them for as long as she could. She was living so that she could die, an empty shell just going through the motions, of what was known as life.

The people who thought they knew her would say differently, they’d argue, that she had a life, she had friends.

Yes, she had a job. She worked as a secretary at a small law firm; she worked from nine to five, Monday thru Friday and made a minimum wage like an average person. She went to Startbucks every morning for her cup of hot chocolate, where she mentally prepared herself for another dismal day at work. She occasionally hung out with a few of her ‘friends’, but they were just other employees that didn’t mind her company. All just normal and routine tasks that she performed as an act, a facade so that others viewed her as normal. If that was living, then what was the point of life? Her eyes shifted to the picture once more, and the reason why she’d kept that photo, entered her mind. Because they, were her reasons for living. Or at least they had been, before they had left her alone.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The alarm buzzed, and mechanically Rebecca removed her arm from its warm cocoon of blankets and hit the off button. Stretching, she opened her eyes and read the blurry 6:00 that blinked at her from the digital clock. That was right; it was Saturday, the one morning she went to the gym. Throwing the covers back, Rebecca placed her feet on the cold carpet and grabbing her robe, headed for the shower.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Crisp morning air blew in her face, invigorating Rebecca into a jog. The world was quiet and peaceful; her only companions were the gifts of mother earth. The soft trilling of birds as they stirred, the rustle of a breeze through the green tree tops, and a few crickets still brave enough to play their song, in the early morning light.

Rebecca felt a small sense of contentment flame inside. It was times like these that she was able to forget her problems for a short while, and immerse herself in something so much bigger. She was nothing in the scheme of life, yet she had been allowed to live for a brief moment, and had been able to experience the wonders, and joys of life, even if in the end that had all been taken from her, and left her in a space of nothingness, but she could still remember.

A screech of tires jarred Rebecca from her reverie, and focusing on the present, she found a car racing toward her at an alarming speed down the two lane street. She was in a residential area, and the vehicle must have been going at least twice the posted speed. That, and the fact that the car was on the wrong side of the road, and was continually swerving, easily led her to the conclusion that the driver was not in his right mind.

Taking this all in, in less then a second, Rebecca also came to the conclusion that no matter how fast or which direction she chose to move, she could not escape the impending result, of what was to come.

Time seemed to slow, and it was as if Rebecca had taken a step through a portal and now stood at the edge of a precipice of swirling colors and depth. A decision. She could step forward into the unknown, or she could go back to a place, that if nothing else at least offered familiarity.

Reaching for the familiar anchor of saneness, Rebecca brought out the compass that had been her companion for most of her life. As she looked upon it, she found it changed. No longer was it a faded, trashed, sentimental piece of metal, but now gleamed in its true beauty. Slowly, fingers shaking, Rebecca reached out and unlatched the clasp that held it shut. Opening it, she was almost not surprised to find the arrow pointing steady and assuredly, north, straight into the unknown. She didn’t look back. Clasping the compass tightly, she only felt exhilaration as she took the step that would take her over the edge.

Anticipating the sensation of falling, she was surprised as her now bare foot, came down on the soft feeling of new grass.

Looking around her, she found that she stood in a lush green meadow at the base of a hill. The colors that greeted her eyes were anything but dull. Bright, vibrant colors that she had never imagined filled her senses, along with lush smells, and exotic sounds.

As a feeling of childlike innocence filled her, she stretched her arms to either side, and throwing her head back she let her self spin. As she came full circle, she found she was no longer alone.

A young girl faced Rebecca, and instant recognition filled her as she met her daughter’s eyes. Even though the girl that now faced her was at least seven, and Rebecca had closed the casket on her three-year-old daughter’s lifeless body five years ago, there was no doubt in her mind of who stood before her.

As the two embraced, Rebecca felt something that she hadn’t felt since the day her family had died. Happiness.

In time, the girl pulled away from her mother, and taking her hand she pulled her in the direction of the hill. Glancing at the compass, one last time, Rebecca followed the forces that urged her onward.

As she ascended the hill, Rebecca looked toward the crest and her heart caught in her throat, as a familiar silhouette appeared on the horizon. Breaking into a run, her daughter followed suite, and together they raced to the top of the hill and to the beautiful adventure that waited for them. Finding herself at last clasped in her husbands arms, their daughter beside them, Rebecca couldn’t help but think her grandfather had been right. The compass had at last, led her home.
In order to write about life, first you must live it!

Ernest Hemingway

Hmm, must be why I only write fantasy, that's the only life I've ever lived.
~Zanna




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It was a great story but... it kind of implied that it was a good thing to go towards the car and get killed. Sure, it was a happier ending but I'm not to certain of how this would be viewed in the eyes of others. It was an amazing work and I have no right to constrain it at all. Censorship of literary works annoys me intensely. I'd just be a bit careful with those who read it. But I really liked how you portrayed how sometimes life can see so meaningless and dull, and we wish we could go back to the good life. Overall, great job!




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Hey Zanna! This piece was. . . interesting, to say the least. It was well written, although I do have a few issues with some parts. So, let's get to reviewing :D


So, first of all, it took too long to actually get anywhere, it was very slow. I think you should try picking up the pace of the story just a bit. Everything is moving along too slow. You had good descriptions, but in some places maybe a tad too much, which would also be one of the things slowing it down. Don't get me wrong, though, description is good. Also, you need to create the right atmosphere for each part of the story. I think you got it down pretty well in most places, but when the car is coming at her, it's all happening so fast and in a blur, yet the atmosphere you write in is still relaxed and calm.

No, not every day had or could be the same exact way and that, [No need for a comma here.]was just a part of life.


They huddled closer together, and their voices disappeared from the collective.


I don't think a comma is needed here, either, but I could be wrong.

Rebecca lowered her brown eyed gaze back to her own thin hands and to the cup which they grasped. They had it so easy, for them life was all fun and games, able to live without a care in the world.


This was just a tad confusing at first. When I first read it, I thought you were talking about her hands. But I understood it the second time.

Some part of her longed to be one of them [I think you need some sort of break in the sentence here. A comma would work just fine.] yearned to be able to forget everything and just live for the moment.

Bored, and even more disheartened than usual, Rebecca picked up her cup of now cold chocolate and made her way to the door, brushing past people, each, which had their own stories to tell, that she would never know.[This just seems a little weirdly worded to me. The sentence doesn't flow along with very much smoothness thanks to this last bit. It just seems a little off.]


Crossing the room to the lone recliner by the window, Rebecca eased herself into it, and surveyed the area,that was her sanctuary.


A shelf against one corner, held an assortment of books and a stereo, with a few CD’s crowning it.


The people who thought they knew her would say differently, they’d argue, that she had a life, she had friends.


Her eyes shifted to the picture once more, and the reason why she’d kept that the photo, entered her mind. Because they, were her reasons for living. Or at least they had been, before they had left her alone.


She worked as a secretary at a small law firm; she worked from nine to five, Monday thru through Friday and made a minimum wage like an average person.


Throwing the covers back, Rebecca placed her feet on the cold carpet and, grabbing her robe, headed for the shower. [If she's just heading to the gym anyway, why take a shower first?]


A screech of tires jarred Rebecca from her reverie, and, [I think there should be a comma here?]focusing on the present, she found a car racing toward her at an alarming speed down the two lane street. She was in a residential area, and the vehicle must have been going at least twice the posted speed. That, and the fact that the car was on the wrong side of the road, and was continually swerving, [This just seems a little forced, like you had to stuff it in there. I think it would be fine to just take it out, and it would sound and flow much better.]easily led her to the conclusion that the driver was not in his right mind.

Taking this all in, in less then a second, Rebecca also came to the conclusion that no matter how fast or which direction she chose to move, she could not escape the impending result, of what was to come.


She could step forward into the unknown, or she could go back to a place, that if nothing else at least offered familiarity. [So first you say she could not escape the impending result of what was to come, but then here you imply she has a choice. ???]

Reaching for the familiar anchor of saneness, Rebecca brought out the compass that had been her companion for most of her life. As she looked upon it, she found it changed. No longer was it a faded, trashed, sentimental piece of metal, but now gleamed in its true beauty. Slowly, fingers shaking, Rebecca reached out and unlatched the clasp that held it shut. [So, she doesn't have enough time to jump out of the way of the car, but she has enough time to get her compass out, stare at it, open it and stare at it some more?] Opening it, she was almost not surprised to find the arrow pointing steady and assuredly, north, straight into the unknown. She didn’t look back. Clasping the compass tightly, she only felt exhilaration as she took the step that would take her over the edge. [Okay, what step? Is she actually taking a step or is it mentally? This is just a bit confusing.]


Anticipating the sensation of falling, she was surprised as her now bare foot, came down on the soft feeling of new grass.


As a feeling of childlike innocence filled her, she stretched her arms to either side, and, throwing her head back, [Not sure if there should be a comma here or not...?] she let her self spin.


As the two embraced, Rebecca felt something that she hadn’t felt since the day her family had died. Happiness.[Don't just tell us she's happy, show us!]


Glancing at the compass, one last time, Rebecca followed the forces that urged her onward.


So, this is pretty good, one of the main things you need to work on is punctuation. I think there might have been a few other things that I missed as well, but you should go over it and check. I'm not always that great with punctuation, either, so I hope I didn't tell you something wrong.

PLOT

So, the plot was pretty good, my only complaint would be how slow it moved along. It's harder for the reader to stay interested if everything goes along so slowly, and makes it seem dull, even when it really isn't. Your story wasn't so slow it seemed dull, I was just giving an example.

CHARACTER

Your character is pretty well developed, but you should work on showing us her emotions more than telling, and let us know what she's thinking, so that we can really get in the story and feel connected to the character.


DESCRIPTION

Your descriptions were pretty good, a little slow, as I mentioned earlier, but good. You let us know her surroundings and what was going on around her, instead of her being in her own little bubble and the reader doesn't know what's going on around the character.


OVERALL

I thought this was very good, and well-written, although I think it was a little sad that she had to die before she could find happiness or move on. Remember to try and fit the atmosphere to the particular scene. You don't want a slow relaxed atmosphere for an intense, action packed scene. So, great job and keep it up! You're doing great! I really did enjoy this story, and admire you for being able to come up with a plot for a short story so quickly. I'm really bad at coming up with a plot that will be short enough for a short story.

~Tayla
A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new.
~Albert Einstein

I'm not afraid of death, I just don't want to be there when it happens.
~Anonymous

I am the author of my life. Unfortunately I'm writing in pen and I can't erase my mistakes. . .
~Anonymous




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Thanks for the advice, I'll go over my piece and try to fix it a little more. Sorry about the comma's that's a big problem for me (obviously). Also how you mentioned that she didn't have time to get away from the car, but she did to open the compass, that was after she'd been hit by the car, and was standing on the edge of life.
Anyhow. thank you for the review!
~Zanna Shepherd
In order to write about life, first you must live it!

Ernest Hemingway

Hmm, must be why I only write fantasy, that's the only life I've ever lived.
~Zanna



There has never been a sadness not cured by breakfast food.
— Ron, Parks & Rec