The A Team

Spoiler

Hey there! Thanks for clicking on my contest entry The contest I entered can be found here - contests/viewcontest.php?id=65
My emotion was 'Rage' and I picked the song 'The A Team' by 'Ed Sheeran' to accompany my piece. Any comments at all will really be appreciated, especially with the start (I don't know if it's too long) and the dialogue (I know my emotion is rage but I'm not sure it she's too harsh on her mum or not).
Thank you in advance

Spoiler

Here are the lyrics to the song -
'White lips, pale face
Breathing in snowflakes
Burnt lungs, sour taste
Light's gone, day's end
Struggling to pay rent
Long nights, strange men

And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly

Ripped gloves, raincoat
Tried to swim and stay afloat
Dry house, wet clothes
Loose change, bank notes
Weary-eyed, dry throat
Call girl, no phone

And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries

And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
Cos we're just under the upperhand
And go mad for a couple of grams
And she don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland
Or sells love to another man
It's too cold outside
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
An angel will die
Covered in white
Closed eye
And hoping for a better life
This time, we'll fade out tonight
Straight down the line

And they say
She's in the Class A Team
Stuck in her daydream
Been this way since 18
But lately her face seems
Slowly sinking, wasting
Crumbling like pastries
They scream
The worst things in life come free to us
And we're all under the upperhand
Go mad for a couple of grams
And we don't want to go outside tonight
And in a pipe we fly to the Motherland
Or sell love to another man
It's too cold
For angels to fly
Angels to fly
To fly, fly
Or angels to die'

Here's the link to the video on Youtube too, as I think the song really is worth a listen
- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAWcs5H- ... re=related

The sound of a hacking cough and heels clicking on the kitchen floor woke me from the light doze I’d fallen into. Soon after, a sliver of light appeared between the bottom of my bedroom door and the threadbare carpet. I blinked in recognition and slipped my feet out from beneath the covers. My heart was already beating in anticipation and when I glanced at the alarm clock on my dresser, my pulse rocketed ever faster. One in the morning.

A cool breeze from the cracked window coated my skin with goosebumps as I tip-toed towards the door. A shiver worked its way down my spine, leaving a feeling of dread at the pit of my stomach. Worry seeped into my brain as I gripped the door handle and pressed down ever so slightly. I could hear a different noise from the kitchen now. Scurrying. Desperate searching; china mugs hitting glasses as she scoured the cupboards. A smash made me jump and the door came open.

I stepped into the hallway just as a shadow spread over the rug that was stained with red wine and cigarette ash. Late nights and sore heads. My stomach rumbled and my hand flew to my middle, pressing down to ease my hunger. Creeping along the short corridor, I bit my lip anxiously. Too soon there was no wall layered in peeling paper left to hide behind. Too soon I could see the back of my mother. Ripped tights. Dirty stilettos. Rain sodden hair and coat. The anger replaced the worry in an instant. This was becoming too much of a game to her. The second time this month.

“It’s been two days.” My voice was loud, inflicted with as much hate as I could muster.

Her shoulders raised, indicating that I’d caught her off guard. Bony hands let go of my Winnie the Pooh mug, and she turned to face me slowly. Mum was still wearing the same make-up that she’d put on two days before. Now though, the mascara and eyeliner that had been applied with precision was smudged and greasy. Her face was pale, her lips stained crimson round the edges where she hadn’t used her lipstick for a while. She looked tired. My anger grew.

“You’ve been gone for two days. No explanation. No idea where you are. No thought to how I’d get to school. What I’d eat.”

I'd tried to reason with her last time. She'd just walked off, telling me she was my mother, but she had her own life too. That had hurt me, and the tears I'd been crying had turned to tears of hate. If she wasn't going to listen then I was going to have to shout.

She moved her mouth into a subtle ‘o’ as if she were thinking of what to say, and how to explain another episode of her reckless behaviour.

I stepped towards her, my feet colliding with the sharp edges of a broken cup. I winced in pain but didn’t break my gaze from the woman standing in front of me. She’d turned around now, showing off dirty skin and tangled hair.

“You don’t care anymore, do you?” My fists were clenched tightly. My breathing hard. “Why don’t you care, Mum?”

She still said nothing. Instead, her eyes flitted back and forth, between me and the Winnie the Pooh mug she’d set on the draining board.

A surge of rage made me bolt forwards. Hands grabbed wrists and eyes connected. “You won’t find it there,” I spat. “I’ve hidden the last of the money. I’m not going to let you piss it all away anymore.”

Mum frowned then, narrowing her bloodshot eyes. Lack of sleep and too much alcohol. “You can’t do that!”

I didn’t even flinch as she shouted into my face, spit flying at me. “I shouldn’t have to!” I screamed, not caring whether my voice reached the neighbours through the papery walls. “I shouldn’t have to hide money from my own mother, but if I don’t, I know you’ll just spend it all on drugs!”

My skin prickled with fury as a hot tear rolled down her face. Crocodile tears. Worthless. Pointless. Useless. Her knees buckled, but I leaned into the counter to keep her from crashing to the cold kitchen floor. I wanted her to see how angry I was.

“You’re a selfish bitch!” I screeched. “You leave your fourteen year old daughter alone. Do you know how much it hurts me to know that you’d rather party yourself to death than look after me?”

Her gaze fell to my throbbing feet but I wrenched her face back up to look at me. For a moment her eyes flashed and I thought she was going to hit me like she did when she was drunk. But it was gone as quick as it had came, replaced with self pity.

“You’re thirty years old, Mum! Stop living like you’re eighteen! You’ve got responsibilities now. You can’t just do what you like anymore.” I gave her wrist an extra hard squeeze. “It’s time to grow up!”

“But what if I don’t want too, huh?” She gazed up at me hard, trying to stare me down. “What if I’m fed up of being a slave to a nine to five job, huh?”

I gritted my teeth and started forwards again, careening and knocking her back into the sink. She grimaced as I rounded on her weak, lifeless body. “You don’t have a choice!” I seethed, shaking with anger. “I didn’t get the choice of a decent Mother who cares about me. Who cares about her body. I just get you.”

Every hate filled thought that I’d ever had was bubbling to the surface now, injecting me with angst and so much revulsion for my mother that I couldn’t even stand to look at her anymore. Seeing the way she was watching me with dead eyes. Letting me hold her against her will without even trying to struggle. Crying without a meaning.

“This is my life too!” I cried. “Don’t you understand?”

“Caitlin.” My name sounded wrong when uttered from her chapped lips. Her voice made it seem like I was the one in the wrong. Like I was the one partying with strangers. Sleeping with them for money. Money I then spent on drugs and alcohol.

I was fuming to the point that I thought my heart would burst out of my chest if I was in the same room as her for a second longer. I let go of her suddenly, watching as she sank back against the sideboard, a look of relief on her face as if she thought I was relenting. Giving up.

“If you think for one minute that you can get away with living in a daydream for the rest of your life, you’re more sick in the head than I realised.” I could feel my lips curling upwards into a sneer. “You need to seriously decide what’s most important to you ‘cause if you pick drugs then I’ll be the one to suffer. I’ll be the one identifying your body at the local morgue when they find your corpse in some alleyway downtown. I’ll be the one living as an orphan for the rest of my life.” Bitter tears of resentment leaked from my eyes and streamed down my face, stinging my cheeks. “I’ll be the one to suffer because you want to live the life you can’t have. You shouldn’t want to have.”

My heart was hammering so hard that I could hear the sound of blood pumping in my ears. My throat was raw from shouting and the muscles in my arms were sore from holding my deadbeat mother up. My whole being was vibrating with rage as the final accusation shot like venom from my lips.

“You’ve been acting out ever since Dad died and it’s not fair! It hit me hard too, you know. I still think about him everyday! I still wish he could come back!” My hands were shaking uncontrollably. “Sometimes I wish you’d died instead of him!”

It was then that Mum straightened up and wiped the smeared make-up from her face with the back of a grubby hand. She considered me with her dead eyes for a second before her lips quivered. “It’s not my fault your dad died,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I grabbed fistfuls of my hair and pulled in frustration. The pain did nothing to numb the hate. “And it’s not my fault either!” The tears blurred my vision but I still saw red. “Grow up, Mum! Nothing you do will bring him back and it’s about time you realised that before I’m gone too. Then what will you have?”

I swiped at the tears and settled my glare on her pale face. “Nothing. That’s what you’ll have. Nothing but drugs and alcohol. I hope that makes you happy.” With the last ounce of restraint I had left I forced myself back to my room. “I hope I never end up like you!” I called, glaring over my shoulder to see her weeping into her hands. "You're my idea of hell."

This fit both the emotion and the song really well.
I liked the beginning and how it made me wonder what was going on at first. Its length is fine in my opinion, I didn't notice any sort of drawn out quality in it.
I wouldn't worry too much about her being too harsh with her mother. Her reaction says something about her in addition to revealing all her mother's flaws. While the mom is obviously the one at fault here, Caitlin doesn't have to be perfect or all good. It would ruin the element of realism you have that makes her rage so believable. I like how even though her mother had very few lines, you still gave her a distinct voice.
Good job, and thanks for sharing.

The sound of heels clicking on the kitchen floor woke me from the light doze I’d fallen into.
I guess a doze isn't a very heavy sleep, now that I think of it, but clicking heels isn't very loud.
A smash made me jump and the door came open.
A smash is, so... You could switch those two out.

Bony hands let go of my Winnie the Pooh mug and she turned to face me slowly.
You need a comma before the and because you have to independant clauses with two different subjects.

She moved her mouth into a subtle ‘o’ as if she were thinking what to say. How to explain another episode of her reckless, thoughtless behaviour.
The last clause seems stiff for some reason. I think it's too chunky to be by itself. I know that makes no sense, but you're using it as a sentence when it's really not, and it sounds fake.
I would put a comma where you have the first period and put and of before the how, making both parts one sentence. I'd also trim down the adjective from two to one. I think the lesses are throwing me off.
Of course, do what you think sounds better.
You need an of after thinking and before what in the first sentence.


if I don’t I know you’ll just spend it all on drugs!”
Comma after don't because it's a clause all to itself, and you have to put commas seperating a dependant clause at the beginning of a sentence and the independant clause. It's confusing. Just know never to do that to a dependant clause at the end of a sentence.

Her knees buckled but I leaned into the counter to keep her from crashing to the cold kitchen floor.
You need another comma before the but. I didn't notice this, but I've been out of the reviewing game for a while, so you might want to reread it to place the commas.

For a moment her eyes flashed
Comma after moment

I gritted my teeth and started forwards again, careening and knocking her back into the sink.
Your character was fine until she seemed to hurt her mother. Yes, her mother's a hateful, irresponsible woman, but your mc hurting her makes the mc seem overly mean to me. I'm kinda on the fence because she's had all this rage building up, but the mc is only a child who would have made excuses for her mother before it got so out of control, so I have a hard time visualizing a fourteen year old pushing her mom around on her first time standing up to her mom.

injecting me with fight and angst
I looked up fight and could only find the noun meaning a battle and such. You might have that one wrong.

See the way she was watching me with dead eyes.
Did you mean for this sentence to be like this, or did you mean to put an -ing on the end of see?

you’re more sick in the head than I realised.”
This... sounds off. You've done a great job with her dialouge, made it sound realistic. This is just a little bump in the otherwise well paved road. I would condense it, and, at this point, I think it should be meaner, more hateful.

My throat was raw from shouting and the muscles in my arms were sore from holding my deadbeat Mother up.
You only capitalize mother or father or whatever when you're addressing them in dialouge like "Mom, you're so... whatever." Or when, in the story, you say, Mom went to the store in her pajamas, she was so depressed. When you have my in front of it, the word isn't capitalized.

“You’re not on the A Team, Mum. You’re on the Z Team with the rest of the worthless trash.”
Cheese alert! This sounds really... cheesy. You're story was so great. I'm kinda sorry you had to end it with this piece of dialouge because it doesn't do it justice.

I hoped I helped. I know I have a lot of irritating nitpicks and such, but I tend to focus on that kind of thing. Here's a website I used to help with commas and any punctuation really. This was great. You got the emotion across, and I liked the lyrics sprinkled into the story. It made me feel like we were sharing some kind of inside joke dispite the fact that you have the lyrics posted at the top.
So yeah. Good luck in the contest,
Megsug

I know you said I didn't have to review but I had to. I-loved-it! This song is so good and the story really captures the cold emotions in it. Seriously, you have talent. The imagery? Amazing. You're actually probably my favourite author on this, and I don't say that to everyone. I liked the daughter actually, because she seems strong. I've got a friend who's mother is like that, not a hooker but an addict. It's hard to see, let alone expercience. Great, emotional piece. Well done!

The emotion was conveyed perfectly, and I can't really find any nit picks that megsug hasn't already pointed out. Your word choice was impressive, and conveyed your message well. Its also very honest-sounding, making you very credible. Great job!

qiuvhnjrrvo87tqhbiurv ILOVETHISSONG.

*cough*

Now that's out of the way, I shall get onto the review. So I thought this was really awesome! You certainly make me feel worse about my entry, that's for sure. xD I doubt you did this intentionally, but this felt like a follow up of that other short story of yours, Monster, was it? I know the mother in that had depression, but I think it's really neat because this piece reminds me of that one, and it feels like this is the sequel or something, haha.

As for the worries you have, I definitely don't think you need to stress yourself out about them. One of my favourite parts of this is the start. You've got a dash of mystery in there that makes me wonder what's actually going on, plus you build suspense effectively. As for the dialogue, it all looks okay to me. I don't think Cailtin was too harsh on her mother either. I mean, the emotion you're working with is rage, after all, plus if my mum was anything like her, I'd most definitely be extremely pissed off.

I don't really think I have many critiques for you, if I'm honest... I do have a suggestion though, I guess. Basically, I'd like to see more of a build up of rage. I mean, I highly doubt Caitlin wakes up with full-on rage inside of her, right? When I wake up, I'm barely conscious for, like, ten minutes... I can't really pin-point where the rage really gets into her, so I think that if you created more of a build up, it would really be effective. Don't get me wrong because I can see that there's definitely some kind of build up, but I think you could do it more powerfully. I might not be suggesting this under normal circumstances, but considering the main focus of this contest is the emotion, I reckon you should think about doing this.

"You’re not on the A Team, Mum. You’re on the Z Team..."

I'm not 100% sure why, but I'm not overly keen on this last line. I don't think corny is the best word to use because of the atmosphere and stuff of this story, but eh... I didn't like the whole you're in the Z team thing. It kind of feels like you've put it in just so the song reference is there. To be honest though, chances are, this is just me being too picky. I don't know why, but things like this are a pet peeve of mine, so you can most likely ignore this, if you want. xD

Other than that, I don't think I have anything else to say. Gah, I'm so useless. >.< Overall, I think you've done a great job with this, and I'm now officially scared about the contest, so congrats for that! I'll hopefully be able to get to the next chapter of Sometimes soon, so you shall see me again then!

Good luck in the contest, and keep writing,

xoxo Skins

Hey Dudette!

I know it's been a while since you first entered this piece into the Capture That Emotion contest, but every entry gets a review, so I'm bringing it back out again.

Well, first off, you already know that we thought this was pretty dang good. You portrayed the emotion really well and your story was involving -- I found myself getting more and more stressed as I read on. It's always a good sign when your reader gets so emotionally invested that they're feeling their blood pressure rising.

I think you did a good job showing the buildup and the final parting words; none of it felt too forced or unnatural, and you have a certain quality to your writing that makes me feel like I'm not actually reading the story, I'm watching it unfold deftly in my head, and that is a great talent.

So, this was basically a pointless review to tell you that your story was great, but there's really nothing to nitpick on. Well done, and thank you for entering the contest! Thanks also for your patience in waiting for the results.

Cheers!
~Hawk