Young Writers Society

You knew you were in trouble when you stopped sweating. You had finished off the water two and a half days ago. The empty bottle hung lifeless by your side, taunting. The first few days after the accident, you were frantic. Racking your brain for the few tips you had managed to glean from watching those survival shows that played on the Discovery Channel. That’s how you knew that this was the beginning of the end. This was when all those poor Discovery saps found a shadow to hide under and waited for that miraculous helicopter to come over the hills. Slowing walking across the dry sand, you knew you wouldn't be so lucky. You never were religious, but you prayed anyway.

Your tongue was laden, heavy, thick. You had numerous aliments, but that’s all you could focus on. The tongue that had formed so many words, the tongue that helped you convey so many thoughts, the tongue that sung so many off-tune songs into your ipod, and now you just wanted to rip it out. At least the blood would provide a little moisture.

You probably should have rationed your water, but you had heard stories. You weren’t going to be one of those bodies they found in the mountains with half a bottle of water. You weren’t that stupid, you were going to die smart. Four years of university had to be worth something, didn’t it? If you weren’t so wrecked, you might have laughed at the irony of it all. “Let’s go on a hiking trip to celebrate graduation,” you had said.

The days were relentless, the Arizona sun beating down endlessly between the sheer faces of the mountains. It was hot, sure, but that was nothing compared to the dryness. So very dry, every breath you took stung your throat, grated against the parched lining. The nights were as cold as the days were hot, and just as dry. Not a drop of moisture anywhere. You were so desperate; you would have drank your own urine, if you had any left.

You decided you couldn’t walk anymore, it was fruitless anyway. The landscape hadn’t changed for hours. You eyed the desert, the mountains, the packed sand, searching for a suitable place to die, that, at least you had control over. You settled on a particular pretty portion of the slab to your left. You had always loved these mountains. They were so majestic, so beautiful, glittery strips of color running through the granite, forming a rainbow of purples, reds, and oranges. You never thought they would betray you. You never thought they would kill you.

You lowered yourself on to the sand pushing yourself up against the wall, every muscle protesting in pain. The sand stung your burnt skin, the hot grains inflaming your already battered body. You rested your head against the rock in resignation. Nothing to do now but wait for the end.

You wondered what they would say at your funeral; you wondered who would come. It would be held at the church you never go to, presided over by a pastor you never hear. People would use words like “peace,” “better place,” and “God’s plan.” Words said so often in reference to so many people, they were all but meaningless.

You pictured your family, sitting quietly in the first pew. Your brother fidgeting in an itchy rented suit, playing nervously with his hands, only twelve and so sensitive. You hoped he wouldn’t live his life in the shadow of death. Your mother would be beside him, holding his hand and quietly crying into a tissue. She would have spent the morning making sure every arrangement was made, that everyone looked perfect. She would fret about your brother’s hair, how it never laid flat. She would spend half-an-hour trying to find the right pair of shoes, maybe throwing a couple in frustration. She would call the florist for the fifth time, just to make sure of the details. The first time she would have stopped moving is the funeral. Sitting in that pew, with no distractions, she would let herself cry, finally. Your father would put his arm around her, trying to be strong. He had his wife and remaining children, he had to be their rock. He would not tell anyone, but he probably mourned you earlier, holding back tears in the privacy of his den, watching home videos on the old TV, torturing himself.

Last came your sister. Hands clasped demurely on a small stack of papers. She would be nervous about delivering the eulogy, but you knew she would do great. She had such a way with words. She would walk to the pulpit, high heels echoing of the hardwood floors, the crowd going silent. She would talk about how great you were, recalling many memories. Maybe she would speak of the trips to lake, the games you would gleefully play in the water. How you always tried to splash her, failing miserably. Or maybe she would mention the day they dropped you off at university, how they were all so proud. Of course, she would ignore the all times you pulled her hair or cursed her out. You would be a better person in death then you could ever be in life.

She was getting married soon. You mentally cursed yourself for dying, for stealing some of that wedding day joy from her. You hoped she could be really happy in spite of you. You hoped they were still madly in love at eighty. You hoped your future nieces and nephews would live full and happy lives.

You wished you had a paper and pen. You wished you could tell your family and friends everything you were too scared to say. You wished you could tell them you loved them and that you’re sorry, but you couldn’t.

You hoped they wouldn’t find your body. They didn’t need to remember you as a pile of weathered bones, or worse yet, a heap of rotting black flesh, half -eaten by vultures. You wanted them to remember you as you lived. No matter how pitiful that life was.

What had you done, really? You had spent your entire life in school. Sitting in chairs, listening to lectures, learning of a world you had never really experienced. You thought you had your entire life to travel to exotic places, to fall in love, to eat way too much. Turns out, your entire life was twenty-two years long. You were too tired to lament the injustice of it all, it was futile.

The sun went behind the mountains. You prepared for the cold, curling your ravaged body into a ball. You knew you wouldn't make it till morning. As the night went on, you were increasing confused. Your thoughts were bordering on incoherent, yet you had awareness that this was the end.

You wondered absently what you last words should be. It didn’t seem to matter that no one would hear them. You were upset that you weren’t all that witty. Those last words were essential to everything, the key to some unseen door, so you thought. You looked up at the sky, saw the constellations casting their dim light, and you had it. This last word was easily the best to ever be uttered. It came in barely a whisper, your lungs were so far gone, but you managed it,

“Star.”

Yes, yes, that was the perfect. You were filled with a kind of peace. You had accomplished your task, it was complete.

You closed your eyes and listened: Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. Is that a helicopter? You can hear it. It’s there, you’re certain. It came to rescue you, you’ll be famous. You’ll hug your mother again, laugh with your friends.

Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. You listen to the last sounds of your heart as you slip into darkness.

Hey there! I'm here to review!

Okay, so firstly I want to talk about the first paragraph. It was definietly and a puller and I enjoyed reading it and it definietly made me want more. I find the beginnings are quite important so whenever I see a good opening I always like to compliment it. ^^

“Let’s go on a hiking trip to celebrate graduation,” you had said.

However, this little big sort of confused me a bit. I mean, at first I thought you were talking about being trapped in a dessert but then you said hiking trip and that means trees and woods and stuff, right? So, before hiking it's possible that he would find some sort of stream or water somewhere and have things to eat even if that meant leaves, no? So I dunno, maybe I'm not nature-wise enough. :/

You eyed the desert, the mountains, the packed sand

And this part only confused me more. If you were talking about sand dunes when you mentioned mountains then yeah, I'd get where this place is but otherwise it seems strange.

Okay so that's all for the nitpicks really. There really weren't much to it.
As for writing in second person, I think you did fairly well. I'm not the greatest person when it comes to writing in second person but I've done it before and sometimes second person makes pieces feel a bit more heartbreaking, a bit more real for some reason. So I will say that I did feel emotion with this piece and I loved the ending. Well, I liked how you incorporated the heart beating to the helicopter. I actually really did think that he was going to live but I guess not. It was sad.

The message to your piece was quite evident too. I could see where you were taking it and how you wanted it to be perceived. Some times you regret lots of things and wish you had more time to do the things that you want to do. It's a bit sad, really.

Nonetheless, I loved the piece itself. I do think, however that the middle where you introduced the family and all was bit too much of space taker. I wasn't very interested in listening to all that but I read it anyway. lol

Overall, it's a great piece! I'm glad I was able to read this! ^__^
Keep writing and if you have any questions let me know!

-Pink

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I hate death stories. D:

You use a lot of fragmented sentences, especially in the first paragraph. Try stinging things together with commas, hyphens, colons, and semi-colons.

Also, half an hour isn't a hyphenated phrase.

Overall, I think you conveyed the emotion very well. With work, this could be amazing.

Hi!

I actually thought the 2nd person perspective in this was really cool, and it really set this piece apart from others. Although it made me sad at the end, which I hope was the ultimate goal, this piece was still really very good.

Nice job, overall!

I really liked this! I didn't find any major errors grammar/spelling-wise, so you're good there. I think you did a marvelous job with the 2nd person perspective. I've never tried to write in the 2nd person; I just might have to try it out now.

The only major complaint I have is that I couldn't really connect to your main character. It might help if you described him/her a little more. What were they wearing? Was their hair sticking to the back of their neck in nasty clumps? Did they use their shirt as a makeshift sun hat? Also, I think it would be kind of cool if you maybe told us about the accident that left your character stranded out in the desert. What were they doing? Were there other survivors? I REALLY wanted to know. x)

Other than that, I thought this was very well done. Your descriptions were lovely and I got a little misty-eyed about halfway through.

Hope this helps!

- Jelly

I think you used beautiful imagry, it was very well written. Just tell me he doesn't die....the helicopter saves him, right? It's right there, he just falls asleep, right?
Well, enough of that, I didn't know they had mountians in Arizona, learn something new every day, huh?
Also, it seems like his siblings aren't that sad. Just sitting there, either "demurely" or "fidgety". No crying for them? I think you could explain their feelings better. You did a great job with the parents, that I can just see. In my head, the brother and sister just look like they're in church. Well, hope I helped and keep writing!

Hello.

Nitpicks:

You knew you were in trouble when you stopped sweating.

- I like this starting sentence. It pretty much makes the reader interested.

You had finished off the water...

- Finished off the water?

You had numerous aliments...

- Typo: 'ailments'

...that, at least you had control over.

- I think you should put a comma after 'least' to make this clearer.

She would spend half-an-hour...

- I don't think those three words need to be hyphenated.

Last came your sister. Hands clasped demurely on a small stack of papers.

- I think it's more correct to write 'Your sister would come last' because this hasn't happened yet. Also, I think it's better to end the first sentence with a comma because these two sentences are connected.

high heels echoing of the hardwood floors

- Did you mean 'on' and not 'of'?

Or maybe she would mention the day they dropped you off at university, how they were all so proud.

- He got dropped off the university?? You said that he spent four years there and that they were all proud.

You would be a better person in death then you could ever be in life.

- You mean 'than' not 'then'.

...half -eaten by vultures.

- Remove the space before the '-eaten'.

...you were increasing confused.

- I think you meant 'increasingly'.

Your thoughts were bordering on incoherent,

- I think you meant 'incoherence'.

You wondered absently what you last words should be.

- Typo. The 'you' before 'last' should be 'your'.

Yes, yes, that was the perfect.

- It seems like you forgot to put a word after 'perfect' or to remove the 'the' before it.


That was nicely done! You described everything that happened well. You had nice imagery in it too. Also, I think you're successful in sharing the sadness in the story to the reader. The ending was especially sad too. Anyway, about the 2nd person narration, I think you did a fine job. It actually seemed to me like you are actually used to using this kind of narration. I'm fine with the title by the way. It's catchy.

Never stop writing!

Second person works for this piece. My personal opinion on second person is that pieces written in it come in two varieties: either deeply emotional pieces written compulsively, on a surge of inspiration -- or choose-your-own-adventure books. So be very careful with how you use it. This piece ends in death, which is a common element of the latter. There is lots of emotion here, which is a common element of the former. Which do you want to be associated with?

I didn't notice any of the run-on sentence problems one of the previous reviewers mentioned, nor did I find any glaring grammar or spelling problems. Whether I didn't notice them because they weren't there or because I was too absorbed in the story to do so is up to you to decide.

One thing I would cut is this sentence:

Words said so often in reference to so many people, they were all but meaningless.

I realize that this website is one where most folk need to be told exactly what the story is telling them, but this particular story is a treat for folk looking for serious pieces, such as yours truly. As such - don't tell us that these words are meaningless. Don't force-feed us that message. We read the words "God's plan" and so on, and we realize that despite all those wonderful plans, our hero is still dying in the desert. We know that those words are meaningless, that they do nothing for people such us the main character. This sentence mars an otherwise brilliant paragraph.

One part that makes this piece truly shine is the last word of the main character, "Star". When I read this, the words that immediately came to my mind were "shooting for the stars". Much of the piece is spent on the main character lamenting the triteness of his life, how he kind of went along with the flow, never really soaring and achieving his full potential. That he seemingly admits this and finds himself at peace with this admission is a poetic twist worthy of a near-drawn tear from yours truly. If you indeed intended this kind of interpretation, ten thousand thank yous for not rubbing my face into it, as you did with "Words said in reference...". Perhaps this was the great lesson behind this story? It was for me.

The character's death was not unexpected, but it was disappointing. I would have preferred him to get out of that desert, write a book about his near-death in the desert, build bridges, and go into space and meet an alien. Or not. If you were really set on making me depressed, you should have made him survive and learn nothing from all the things he thought and felt. So no matter your intention, I feel that having him just die is a lazy, cheap, and ineffective way to end this story. If you'll excuse the crass metaphor, it makes the story feel like a faked orgasm. There's no explosive (or explosively depressing) finale, just a pale imitation thereof.

Overall, I loved this. If not for the ending and a few telly parts, I would hail this as a masterpiece. As it is, it falls short - but still far beyond anything else I've read in the last few days. Good job.

Your rescue helicopter,
cC

This was pretty darned good. I can see what cC's talking about with the ending, though. It was kind of the easy way out. You're playing it safe.

It takes an ambitious author to do something unexpected, risk being called contrived, but do it for the purpose of delivering some kind of message or some kind of disappointment on the character's part that he won't get that funeral he imagined.

Have you ever heard of a book put out by a webcomic and its readers called Machine of Death? It's a collection of short stories about people who have found out how they're going to die thanks to a machine that takes a blood sample. Unfortunately, to ruin the ending of one of the stories, I'm going to give you an example of one particular ending. There was a character who learned he would die by starvation. He enlisted in the army to try to cheat it, maybe he'd get shot instead. But, like prophecies go, he found himself stranded, crippled, and laying to waste...he was starving to death. His companion leaves him behind and he resigns himself to his fate. But then...at the very last moment, his companion returns with help and they save him and he goes back to his normal life...but he's haunted because he knows that he'll have to suffer through starvation again. And that's it.

It's kind of cool, right? It plays against your expectations, but has some kind of message that resounds with you in the end. Likewise, I think your piece's ending could be much stronger if the character lives, but feels some kind of emotional response to the way that he/she was cheated of his/her imagined death, the imagined weeping relatives, the imagined eulogies. I think it could be quite a powerful statement about human nature, then.

Otherwise, what do I have to say? The introduction is great. Great hook, and it's true because it starts with the most important punch about surviving: water.

I can't help but be curious about what the accident was. And curious about the fate of the other people that the character went hiking with. And curious if the character did anything immoral to their bodies...eat them? Steal their stuff? What does desperation drive us to do?

Your thoughts were bordering on incoherent, yet you had awareness that this was the end.

You say this, but there is no evidence of this. I think you either need to include totally incoherent thoughts or you need to take it out.

Or, if you're intent on the character dying, you could have done without this part:

as you slip into darkness.

Just stick with:

Beat. Beat. Beat. Beat. You listen to the last sounds of your heart.

Or maybe even "You listen to the sounds of your heart." And that's it. But the whole "slipping into darkness" is just sooooo overused.

Anyway, otherwise, I really enjoyed it, particularly the character's thoughts about the family.

I loved it all. I am new to writing so I am not that good at reviewing yet so I am just going to give you praise. It was excelent. I love the title by the way [img]wink[/img].
I hope to hear more from you. You are very talented.

Keep writing- good luck
JJxVoodo

Hey hi!

First off, the second-person narrative blew me away. I'm very leery of it (the classic example of the choose-your-own-adventure books is the first that jumps to mind), but for some reason, it just works here. I'm not sure why or how, but for this piece, I barely noticed that it was in second-person at all. Bravo. It's hard to pull off effectively and you did.

I can see how people felt let down by the ending, but I'm not sure what to suggest as an improvement. More than anything, I just wanted to see some sort of unity of theme here. Maybe more about the last words? I'm assuming this story sort of revolves around all the things that are entailed with dying and the last words and the peace that came with that decision feels kind of rushed. It didn't feel like it tied much with the rest of the story. Why was there peace with the word 'star'? No further consideration or anything? Just... that?

All in all, I did really like this. It managed to suck me in and keep me there through it all. Great job.

~GryphonFledgling

This had my eyes glued to the page the whole time. It was amazing.

You knew you were in trouble when you stopped sweating. You had finished off the water two and a half days ago. The empty bottle hung lifeless by your side, taunting. The first few days after the accident, you were frantic. Racking your brain for the few tips you had managed to glean from watching those survival shows that played on the Discovery Channel. That’s how you knew that this was the beginning of the end. This was when all those poor Discovery saps found a shadow A shadow? I don't know, that just sounds a bit off to me.to hide under and waited for that miraculous helicopter to come over the hills. Slowing walking across the dry sand, you knew you wouldn't be so lucky. You never were religious, but you prayed anyway.

The first line was definitely a hook, making me want to read more and know why he had stopped sweating. Awesome job on keeping the reader focused on the story. The way you wrote it, in second person, was definitely different, but still awesome.

Your tongue was laden, heavy, thick. You had numerous aliments, but that’s all you could focus on. The tongue that had formed so many words, the tongue that helped you convey so many thoughts, the tongue that sung so many off-tune songs into your ipod, and now you just wanted to rip it out. At least the blood would provide a little moisture.

The only thing in this paragraph that needed to be changed was iPod needed the P to be capitalized.

You probably should have rationed your water, but you had heard stories. You weren’t going to be one of those bodies they found in the mountains with half a bottle of water. You weren’t that stupid, you were going to die smart. Four years of university had to be worth something, didn’t it? If you weren’t so wrecked, you might have laughed at the irony of it all. “Let’s go on a hiking trip to celebrate graduation,” you had said.

Hiking in the desert? He's crazy. But, it has a good touch to the story.

I really, really enjoyed this story. Awesome job.

This was a very good piece. The second person prespective made it stand out, and have a different feel. The beginning convinced you to read it, which is what a good story needs. I also liked the overalll feeling of the piece. Keep up the good work!

This was amazing. I couldn't stop reading.

This was sad but a goodie. I love the imagery. I wish i could do that myself. This is a great job you did splendidly,. Keep writing!!!