Young Writers Society

AngerManagement wrote:

Breathe… What's with the ellipsis?

Purple, Not quite sure if it should be a comma. that's the colour I see every time Samantha strides past. It’s hard to explain, and (I think it flows better with an "and", but this is a personal preference of mine.) even harder to understand. She just has that effect on me. It’s so surreal; one moment I’m sitting strumming on my guitar, or doodling, and she walks into the room. Up until this sentence, you were doing fine. Then this one came along with all its awkward limbs. oo" Try to revise it. The rhythm feels off. It It might work better if you use the proper noun instead of it, but I can't be too sure. Don't use room again, but try to be more descriptive. A bit more inventive. I'd like to see you have some fun with description. spins around and I feel as though I’m on some sort of acid trip. Could you go into more detail? Not too much. Just a bit more. Her hair whips along her face, and she floats in the air -or something as weird as that, maybe weirder. Ahh here it is. I still think it lacks something, though.

‘Mike.’

I turn around, lost for words. My hand freezes as does every other bit of me. This last sentence is awkward.

‘Y…Yeah!’ I almost shout. I’m almost positive I was in a mid-yell. This last sentence is telling, and it's awkward to boot. My face turns a comical shade of purple- her colour Until now, I'm not sure what you mean by her color.. She watches me curiously, her eyelids fluttering like butterflies, bursting into the air as they take their first flight -dare I mention my failed career as a poet? (Good you know. That last bit was a bit overwhelming and made me raise an eyebrow. oo" I'm torn as to whether or not you should leave it in. On one hand, it's terrible and might turn a person away from the piece at once. On the other, it spices up your MC's voice.)

‘Er…nothing, never-mind,’ she mumbles, and turns around, as quick as she had arrived. I silently watched my other half, my one true love No. No, you don' t want me to start on this. It's overdramatic, awkward, and annoying. I understand your MC might feel that way, but this is too early in the story, and it lacks emotional grounding. Comes off as shallow telling. walk away from me. In my notepad, I write the first words she said to me. (You mean this is the first time they've spoken, and he's already in love with her? .____. Even teens with raging hormones would identify that as a crush, in my opinion.) ‘Mike’, she knows my name!

*=====*

My phone beeps irritatingly, dragging me out of my purple I'm guessing purple is supposed to be a motif of some sort? haze. It’s Trey my older -annoying- brother. I watch the phone ring for several seconds and then turn it off. I don’t feel liken spelling the words ‘Door’ and ‘October’, all over again, even though I know it’s all for me. I don't really get what's going on here. oo" It’s all an act. He wants to make me smile.

>.>

It’s visitor's day. The sun is shining; my notepad is filled with doodles of Samantha and the names of our various children. Not so sure how many guys do this, as I haven't seen any of my male classmates do so. Makes him sound rather girly, actually. But maybe that's me. oo" Also, the flow of your prose is awkward here. Revise.Trey will be in today, blathering on about his last rugby game and how good life is, and reasons why I should want to live Kid's depressed? He didn't seem like it. Then again, I guess you never know.. He thinks that a couple of men running around a field, beating themselves up in the name of a game is going to snap me out of my ‘depression’. I’m not even depressed; I’m just an introvert. Ah, I see. Cute. I'm keeping an eye out for the plot, by the way. oo" I don't see any hints of it. I think I smell conflict, but I'm not sure. The scent is so faint. >>

<.<

‘The people at the desk say that you’re allowed to leave the home by yourself now Slightly stilted. Revise if possible, but it's nothing too pressing.,’ Trey states There's nothing wrong with the word said, you know. States is just odd there. Sticks out, and distracts me., his face set in a side-splitting grin. He neglects to mention the fact that we are only allowed to go to the gardens or the neighborhood park. Even without "the fact that", the sentence is still awkward. Revise.

‘I know.’ I reply. Is it too much to want a little bit of quiet? I think, as (We're in the MC's head. No need to say "I think" or "I wonder". oo") My eyes travel out of my room's window to gaze at the carefully tended gardens.

‘We should go to the park, play catch, or footie like old times," he suggests, but I’m already shaking my head. I can see the pain and disappointment in his eyesonly too clearly, but I force myself not to care. Your MC is more or less landing himself in jerk territory. I'm not sure if I want to spend an entire story with him. Jerk doesn't really seem all that compelling. More on jerks as first person narrators later.

‘Or we could just walk around, ya know?’ He tries again, and this time he breaks my resolve and I am unable to say no again.

0_0

The park is beautiful; I don’t know why I never thought to visit it before. Unlike most parks it isn’t filled with nuisances also known as children (This highlighted part here is clunky. Try to find another way of saying it.) that ruin my reflections on life, instead I have Trey who is just as much of a distraction.

‘Seriously quiet park, huh?’ He says, but I’m already falling into my ever familiar purple haze, as Samantha runs past. She halts, and walks over to me, chatting to me like we've spoken more than five words to each other. (I forgot where I read it, but generally, it's a good idea to avoid negatives - they easily turn awkward.).I nod, hmm, and ahh in places that I think they are needed, but she isn’t talking to me. She’s talking to Trey. She smiles at him, and after a while bids her farewell. Trey mutters something as she leaves, and he tries to talk to me but I don't reply. I don’t reply even when he leaves for home; I don’t care. Stilted. Made me stumble when I read it. Revise.

0_o

Samantha isn’t at the home today; she’s been moved to the hospital.Apparently she got into a bad fit, and couldn’t breathe. I silently pray for her.

-.-

She’s back, and alive. Not sure if alive is the word you want to use here. It makes it seem as if Samantha was already dead. I’m happy. My purple haze has returned, my personal high. She talks to me all the time now, speaking constantly about Trey and the way he saved her life. Mouth to mouth resuscitation, she says, swooning. What? I'm not sure what happened. I thought she had a bad coughing fit and went to the hospital because of it? It hurts when she smiles like that, and talks about him. The haze isn’t purple anymore. Too soon. It's contradictory, and I understand that you mean at first he thought his high had returned, but that it faded when he realized that Sam adored Trey, but it's really too soon, and it's not executed all that well.

+.+

Trey’s here today but he’s talking to Samantha. He’s going on a date with her; he says he doesn’t want to and that she smells like sick A sick smell could be a lot of things. Vomit, sick person (medicine), garbage, or just sour. Clarify. all the time, only it’s covered with perfume and body spray. He tells me, he hopes he doesn’t have to kiss her.

(0>0)

Samantha won’t stop talking about Trey and how much she loves him. And how he’s her hero. ‘He saved my life you know,’ she repeats constantly. The haze is raw and red. (On a side note, this is extremely weak as a sentence. The bleeding of the color from purple to red should be put in other terms, in my opinion. That sentence doesn't do it justice.) Every time I watch her, The comma jars the flow of the sentence, but I think you need a comma a there too, which makes me a little iffy about this sentence. Try to reword it if you can. I want to hit something. Trey hates her: the way she talks, the way she thinks, the way she acts. He does it out of duty. It here refers to hating her. I'm fairly sure he doesn't hate her out of duty, but that he hangs around her out of duty. Which doesn't make too much sense either. If anything, SHE owes him a favor, not the other way around. He doesn’t care! I do!, I want to scream, but I don’t. (I just think it flows better this way.)

@_@

It’s a day till my date of release. (Are they in a clinic or something? You never made this too clear.) Samantha sits me in the corner and confides in me. She tells me that she found Trey attractive but until he saved her life, she never liked him. She tells me that she feels like she owes it to him. She has to love him, she tells me. I don’t say anything. I don’t dare. I don’t feel like crying today. The last three clauses are repetitive. Their structures don't vary, and while this may work in certain cases, it doesn't work here. I walk away and when I’m by myself, I pull out my notepad, up till the page where I wrote the first thing she said to me. I ripped it into shreds. The haze is grey now, like a cloudy morning.

^ _^

I leave today; I’m all packed and ready. According to Doctor Herbert, I have battled against depression and attempted suicide, and I won. Little does he know. I fake a smile, and hug my mother and father, forgetting the fact that they never visited in all my six months at the home. Trey stands in the corner, tears streaming down his face. I think sometimes I forget how much he has to do. I walk up to him, and jovially (I think you can do without the word, but if you need it, it should be placed here.) swing my arm across his shoulders.

‘How about when we get home, we play some footie?’ I say, cracking my first real smile as more tears stream down his face.

‘I don’t want her, you know.’ He whispered in my ear. Random, much? And it'll put a damper on the day. Very odd topic, and I don't think a person would really say this. Imagine it. Your friend is graduating from high school, or getting a medal. She comes around, looking happier than anyone else you've ever seen, and she envelopes you in this hug. Do you tell her about how she can have your boyfriend because you don't want him? >.O Probably not. ‘You can have her, but you’re way too good for her.’ I roll my eyes at him, turning around a corner to the exit. Samantha is sitting there, watching us hawk-eyed as we step into the car. The haze is different again, it’s normal with tinges of black.

We drive away, a gust of smoke the only thing remaining of my life at the home. The iron gates close behind me, my family with me and my future in front of me. I can't put my finger on it, but something is weird about these last two sentences.

o.e

I wish I could stop her from breathing so I could get a chance to save her. Be the one she loves, the one she feels obligated to, but I can’t. I lost her, my bulimic angel, her long hazel brown hair, and black pools for eyes. (This was fine until bulimic angel. Then it just became awkward and clunky.) The haze has left me; the world is the right colour again. I draw pictures of her sometimes, but I don’t feel as strongly about her anymore.

I don't know how to. Trey says it's because I have someone new to obsess over. Her name is Nina, and her colour is Blue. Icy Blue. She is the queen of my dreams.

The End...



Open after reading. Is this story in anyway linked to this postcard?

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