Clown in the dark

I'm clutching my head between my hands, the horrible headache denying me of thinking.
A sickening feeling shakes me as I vomit- again, according to the little puddle already there- to the ground.
My hands shiver as I look at them, trying to impose any order upon my renegade mind.
Starting to go through my memories from last night, I manage to recall ten minutes, after which, I can only remember the passing of time, without the included events.
I, Bill Parren, am retaking control of my mind- self control has always been an obsession of mine- to a point of self loathing on occasions.
The area is lighten by a soft orange glow from the street light. What happened?, i desperately interrogate my broken mind. I recall the bottle of vodka, and that three friends of mine were with me- the first, a bit round, average height, I called him fatso... fatso Rick! of course! he hated that nickname, which made it so much more fun to use.
The second, high, and thin, I called him- weird Al, Allan, that was the name!
The third wasn't a friend of mine, but he knew how to "score" the drinks. I decide his name isn't worth the headache of focusing.
Then, when recalling the drinking, I bitterly remember what an idiot I was: while exhausted after partying all night, partially dehydrated and starving, I drank half a liter of vodka- No wonder I had such a hangover!
While weakly mouthing curses, I tried to understand where did those three idiots went.

I will be the first to admit that I'm a cold, ruthless son of a bitch, I don't believe in being kind, or humane, to that matter,
but I never went far enough to justify abandoning me unconscious in my own vomit. Something was wrong.
I started, well, walking, passing a bench on my dizzy path, when my eyes finally managed to pass the scene to my head, I folded, trying to vomit again despite the obvious lack of content in my stomach.
Rick lied on the floor, his face almost impossible to recognize due to brutal hacking in the flesh, his red shirt, the one he only bought three days ago, was ruined, teared and tattered, the red color a lot darker.
next to him, faced down, staring at the red pavement, was Allan. His throat was slashed so violently that his head was only half connected to his neck.
the last one, George, maybe, was in a similar condition.

I looked around, terrified. Usually, when in distress, I'm the one who remains calm, real things never scared me, my fear was kept for imagination. Put me in front of a rottweiler, and I won't flinch, put me alone in the dark, I'll shake.
I was alone, the windows of the buildings looked like hollow eyes, dead, yet watching me with hunger. This was worst then any nightmare, and that's without considering the weakening hangover.
I nervously, hysterically even, tapped my pockets, a quick examination uncovering a key, with both a Celtic style decoration and a laser pointer on the chain, a broken cellphone, a pen, some moist papers, a small metallic, blue flashlight and a wallet, that contained some change, and for some reason, a black joker card.
I am the joker, I knew, this sent me on a flashback of the four of us, laughing as I cynically made jokes about a teacher of ours.

Suddenly, the street light started darkening, I couldn't bare the thought of the darkness, I ran to the main street.
It was to quite, and the party, which was there earlier this evening, seemed to have never exist, in fact, the street looked different and was strangely empty. Behind me, all the lights began to die.

I have turned on my flashlight, hysterically running and shouting, I looked at the card in my wallet for support, only to find a cold, dead smile- hiding a behind it corrupted, rotting face- my smile. I was the joker, the clown, mocking all those around him, but eventually being the joke.

I smile, an old habit, and sprint into the dark...

Hello there, Subjectblue ...and Welcome, welcome to YWS!

I'm clutching my head between my hands, the horrible headache denying me of thinking.

There seems to be a mix up of tenses in this sentence. Maybe it's just me but I don't think it reads properly.

The area is lighten by a soft orange glow from the street light. What happened?, i desperately interrogate my broken mind. I recall the bottle of vodka, and that three friends of mine were with me- the first, a bit round, average height, I called him fatso... fatso Rick! of course! he hated that nickname, which made it so much more fun to use.

I will be the first to admit that I'm a cold, ruthless son of a bitch, I don't believe in being kind, or humane, to that matter,
but I never went far enough to justify abandoning me unconscious in my own vomit.

You have a excessive use of commas here which throws this sentence off balance. There is so much going on, so break this into several sentences:

I will be the first to admit that I'm a cold, ruthless son of a bitch! I don't believe in being kind, or humane, to that matter;
but I never went far enough to justify abandoning me unconscious in my own vomit.

Your excessive comma usage is all over the story.

Rick lied on the floor,

I tried to understand where did those three idiots went

I tried to understand where those three idiots went.

So enough with the nitpicks. After reading this, I really suggest that you thoroughly proofread your work, every time before posting. There were quite a few mistakes that can be avoided. If you're not sure of your editing, then a give a friend or something to help you out with the proofreading. Anyway, another major problem I had was with your tenses. You mixed them up, a lot! I think I understand why, because in the beginning, you started off with a difficult tense to work with. During the course of the story, everything just went in multiple directions and I really found it disappointing. Try to be consistent with the way you tell your story. I understand there were little flashbacks in the story, and I think they are to blame in the mix up. The final major problem I had was with your grammar and the structuring of your sentences. It sort of became a big problem as the story progressed. You tend to have so many commas in your sentences, as I've pointed out earlier. Please, befriend the fullstop, semicolon, exclamation marks, etc. They can also work well to express emotion, as well.
Then it's your storytelling. Your story, for the most part is very vague and dry. I wish you'd added a bit more detail to it. I appreciate that you what you did with the suspense though .

Aside from the negatives, I really think your writing has a lot of potential. I really liked your writing style; very edgy! Despite my previous comment on your storytelling, there were some points where you showed great imagery, especially the first half of the story. With more practice, your writing will improve vastly!

So, I hope I could help. Any questions, send me a PM or just write on my wall

Keep writing and good luck!

Hey! Here for a review!

SubjectBlue wrote:I'm clutching my head between my hands, the horrible headache denying me of thinking.
A sickening feeling shakes me as I vomit- again, according to the little puddle already there- to the ground. You can get rid of this last bit, the reader is allready assuming that it is going to the ground.My hands shiver as I look at them, trying to impose any order upon my renegade mind.
Starting to go through my memories from last night, I manage to recall ten minutes, of which, I can only remember the passing of time, without the included events. This sentence feels long, I would try separating it.
I, Bill Parren, am retaking control of my mind- self control has always been an obsession of mine- to a point of self loathing on occasions. This sentence should definatly be split.
The area is lighten by a soft orange glow from the street light. What happened?, I desperately interrogate my broken mind. I recall the bottle of vodka, and the three friends of mine were with me. End the sentence here. The first, a bit round, average height, I called him fatso... fatso Rick! of course! He hated that nickname, which made it so much more fun to use.
The second, high, and thin, I called him- weird Al, Allan, that was the name!
The third wasn't a friend of mine, but he knew how to "score" the drinks. I decide his name isn't worth the headache of focusing.
Then *get rid of this word, you are using present tence but this word makes it feel like past, when recalling the drinking, I bitterly remember what an idiot I was. End sentence. While exhausted after partying all night, partially dehydrated and starving, I drank half a liter of vodka. No wonder I had such a hangover!
While weakly mouthing curses, I tried to understand where did those three idiots went.

I will be the first to admit that I'm a cold, ruthless son of a bitch. End sentence. I don't believe in being kind, or humane, to that matter;
but I never went far enough to justify abandoning me unconscious in my own vomit. Something was wrong. Are you still remembering or are you thinking "Somehting is wrong now"?
I started, well, walking, passing a bench on my dizzy path, when my eyes finally managed to pass the scene to my head, I folded, trying to vomit again despite the obvious lack of content in my stomach.You just used seven comas. I recomend trying to keep it no more than three or four.
Rick lied on the floor, his face almost impossible to recognize due to brutal hacking in the flesh, his red shirt, the one he only bought three days ago, was ruined, teared and tattered, the red color a lot darker.Split up the sentences.
Next to him, faced down, staring at the red pavement, was Allan. His throat was slashed so violently that his head was only half connected to his neck.
the last one, George, maybe, was in a similar condition.Is George the man that he doesn't feel like remembering his name?

I looked around, terrified. Usually, when in distress, I'm the one who remains calm. Real things never scared me. My fear was kept for imagination. Put me in front of a rottweiler, and I won't flinch, put me alone in the dark, I'll shake.
I was alone, the windows of the buildings looked like hollow eyes, dead, yet watching me with hunger. This was worst then any nightmare, and that's without considering the weakening hangover.
I nervously, hysterically even, tapped my pockets, a quick examination uncovering a key, with both a Celtic style decoration and a laser pointer on the chain, a broken cellphone, a pen, some moist papers, a small metallic, blue flashlight and a wallet that contained some change, and for some reason, a black joker card.
I am the joker, I knew, this sent me on a flashback of the four of us, laughing as I cynically made jokes about a teacher of ours.

Suddenly, the street light started darkening, I couldn't bare the thought of the darkness, I ran to the main street.
It was to quite, and the party, which was there earlier this evening, seemed to have never exist, in fact, the street looked different and was strangely empty. Behind me, all the lights began to die.

I have turned on my flashlight, hysterically running and shouting, I looked at the card in my wallet for support, only to find a cold, dead smile- hiding a behind it corrupted, rotting face- my smile. I was the joker, the clown, mocking all those around him, but eventually being the joke.

I smile, an old habit, and sprint into the dark...

Over all, the story line is really good. There are a bunch of gramatical errors that did distract from the story though.

You have a habit of abusing run-on sentences and comas. I pointed out a couple of them, but just for general reference, if a sentence has more that 3 commas than it is usually a run-on (unless you are listing something).

Also, be careful of you tences. About half way through you swiched from present to past and back to present again. By the time I got to the end I was really confused about whether or not I was in something that was going on now or what was happening last night. I realize that there were a couple of flashbacks, but those should be the only things in past tence. If you want the entire story to be in the past, then you need to be much clearer about where the flashbacks are.

Honestly, those, along with a couple of capitalization errors, were the only problems I saw. Please don't take anything I say too seriously though, I'm blunt and have a hard time softening things I'm trying to say. I would love to see this story once those problems are fixed.

Keep writing,
--Bee--

thanks for the review, I'll try to fix those issues in the future.
however, just for the record, I have to say that I just can't see all these flaws because English is not my native language, furthermore, my native language isn't even a western language, so I have difficulties with the grammar, this is one of the main reasons I joined this site, and I hope to improve.
I'm not saying that you, and others, shouldn't point at those mistakes, that's how I learn, but take it easy on the foreigner, will you?
if you had any problems with the plot, there is not much I can do. it isn't supposed to be completely clear as it's originally based on a real experience of alcohol intoxication, the part of drinking like an idiot is a real story, as well as the fainting and the partial memory loss, that feeling is what led to the writing of the story, alongside with some personal struggles, for example in the point when the MC (me) realizes that the joker, the mean, bitter behavior, is the real joke.

so I guess what I'm trying to say is that even though my grammar is terrible, and even though the story is a bit weird and unclear sometimes, writing it down was a great- and a hard- step for me. Sharing my feelings and my fears is a thing I never do unless writing, which makes me very hesitant every time I publish, so I truly appreciate the grammar help and the helpful review, but be patient, I am a bit of a shady writer.

sincerely.

again you impress me! You work is super awesome!!! <3 i adore your words, i dunno how to describe but they're really good, unfortunately now i won't be able to sleep XD well, thanks for scaring me! it was great, but a little to sane to be the joker, try broken thoughts next time, and less emotion of anything except anger, and strange happyness or and emptyness. then it might fit 'em better!

Thanks, I am really honored by your reviewing of not one, but both of my stories.
Sorry for the scare.
I am glad you enjoy my stuff.

Yuck- this kind of amazing, vivid description is the kind of thing that would make me reluctant to drink, in fear of a gruesome hangover like this!
I love how dis-coordinated this piece felt- it really gave me a sense of how confused and sick this guy felt.
I think you could have added some description of the character's appearance, though. "I ran my hand through my long brown hair", "I felt the coarse stubble on my chin", that kind of thing. And also, watch out for capital letters- I noticed a few times where you missed them- it's no biggie, you should just make sure they're not forgotten.
Anyway this piece: fantastic. I loved it!

Thank you.
And don't be that afraid of drinking, hangovers like that only happen to morons like me, who drink like the character- Half a liter of vodka after two sleepless night, on empty stomach, and partially dehydrated.
Anyway thanks.

Heya!
Awesomenesss!!! The only issue I had with it was grammar, which has already been pointed out. Otherwise, I love love it, it's so dark and it flows beautifully. Love it! Keep writing.