Young Writers Society

"Patrick Hale Nelson." The interrogator threw the papers down on the table. I looked down at them and back at the man disgusted. They were of Patrick, of his bloodied body anyway. "His was throat slit," he ran his finger along the curve of his neck, "from one ear to the other." He pulled a chair up next to me. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. All I could think is how the D.A.R.E officers used to come to my elementary school telling us to stay away from the stuff, hypocrites.

I sat calmly. They had nothing, I was sure of it. Still, what if I'd...no. I'd been careful. No one saw me slip into his house that night. Plus, everyone saw me at the party. As far as Brenden knew, I was with him all night. Thank God for cough medicine and sleeping pills, but, still...

"I heard about that." I replied.

"You heard about it?" I nodded. "Did your ex-girlfriend tell ya' 'bout it?" I glared him in the eye; he held my gaze. How did he know about Carson?

"No, we don't really talk anymore."

"Or were you there?" Our eyes were locked. He wanted me to look away, but I had no problem lying to someone's face.

"No, I was with my friend, Brenden, all night. You can ask him." I realized I hadn't answered his prior question."The whole school knows about it. One of the most liked people in the school turns up dead, of course everyone's gonna be talking."

"So you liked Patrick?" He finally looked away as he stood up. He paced past the one way mirror in the wall. He was trying to make me nervous. It didn't work. I sat still with my arms folded casually on the table. Careful not to fidget or mess with my hands, sure signs of a liar.

"He sits at my table in Chemistry, seemed pretty cool." I paused, dramatic effect, and added with perfect remorse, "He's really gone isn't he?" As I listened to myself talk, I sent a silent 'thank you' to my middle school drama teacher.

"Sell the role, Zach. Do that, and you can be anyone." Mrs. H always told me. She would be proud of my performance.

"Even after he stole your girlfriend." He nodded thoughtfully as he paced. I wanted to scream at him. Carson wasn't just a piece of property to be taken, but I kept my palms flat, though they longed to be balled into fists. 'Sell the role Zach' the demon of my ego whispered ever so sweetly. I wasn't going to give the observers on the other side of the glass the show they wanted. There'd be no confession, no arrest, not today.

"Bros before hoes." It left a bitter taste on my tongue. It's not real, I reminded myself, it's just a role. "I didn't do it if that's what you think."

"Do what?" He was testing me; I didn't like it.

"Kill him, or anything else for that matter. Like I said, Brenden was with me all night. His parents were there too." A cell phone rang, echoing in the nearly empty room. The interrogator pulled a Blackberry from his pant pocket.

"Jentzen." He stated his name to the caller. He listened a moment, grumbled something incomprehensible to me, and hung up. The way he pounded the key, angry, frustrated, I knew what was coming next. He walked to the door, and held it open for someone to walk through. "You're free to go. Thank you for your cooperation." I stood up wordlessly and pushed my chair in like the good boy they needed to believe I was.

"No problem." I said as I walked past. I didn't look back as I strolled down the hallway. I waited till I pushed through the revolving doors that lead to the sidewalk outside. Only then did I let myself to glance back. Just as I'd hoped, No one paid any attention to me. Even the interrogator was sitting in front of a computer screen, having no interest in his dead end lead. A grin slid across my face.

I did it.

I won.

I turned away, and walked down the street like any teenager would on any normal day. Maybe on their way home, or to a friend's house. I had bigger plans,and murder weapon to dispose of. Resting hidden under Brenden's bed.

Hey
I want to say that I really like the idea for the story, about a teenage murderer etc.
Your writing style is very distinctive and easy to read; the words flow well. I wonder where your'e going with the story though- perhaps a flashback style story, telling about the murder? I'd be interested to read more from that start, definately.
Overall, a really good piece, I thought. Keep going with it!

Hey,
Thansks for requesting a review! Most of my review will be grammar mistakes, but I will try to give you an overall view of what I think of your piece.

I looked down at them, and back at the man disgusted.

There doesn't need to be a comma after them.

They were of Patrick. Of his bloodied body anyway.

Replace the period after Patrick with a comma and lowercase the o in of.

All I could think is how the D.A.R.E officers used to come to my elementary school telling us to stay away from the stuff. Hypocrites.

Replace the period after stuff with a comma and lowercase the h in hypocrites

Thank God for cough medicine and sleeping pills. But, still..

Replace the period after pills with a comma and lowercase the b in but. Add another period on your ellispe.

I glared him in the eye, he held my gaze.

Replace the comma after eyes with a semi-colon

How did he know about Carson?

This should be italized.

Careful not to fidget or mess with my hands; sure signs of a liar.

Replace the semi-colon with a comma. sure signs of a liar isn't a complete sentence.

"He sits at my table in chemestry. Seemed pretty cool."

Repalce the period after chemistry with a comma and lower case the s in seemed. also, you spelled chemistry wrong.

Carson wasn't just a piece of property to be taken. But I kept my palms flat, though they longed to be balled into fists.

Replace the period after taken with a comma and lowercase the b in but.

No confession, no arrest. Not today.

Re-word this so that it's a complete sentence instead three little fragments.

The way he pounded the key, angry, frustrated. I knew what was coming next.

Replace the period after frustrated with a comma.

I stood up wordlessly and pushed my chair in the good boy they needed to believe I was.

Do you mean the way a good boy they needed to believe I was would do.

And I won.

Take away the word and. It's not needed; plus, never start a sentence with and, but, nor, for, yet, so ,or.

I had a murder weapon to dispose of. And it was a resting heavily in my jean's pocket.

Replace the period after of with a comma and lowercase the a in and.

I really liked this piece! Aside from the grammatical errors, it was orginal and to the point! Bravo, if you have any questions or need another review feel free to ask.

Have a great day,
Tiffany

Hey there!

I loved it. Aside from some grammatical errors, it was nearly perfect. It kept me interested the whole way through

However I do think yous hould fact check a bit. I'm pretty sure they would have given him a body search, if he was a suspected murderer, so I'm not exactly sure how they would have missed the weapon in his jeans. Not to mention the fact that, were it not the very same day of the murder, I doubt he would still have the weapon in his pants for the interrogation. And I don't think officers can answer their cell phones in the middle of an interrogation (plus, for a murder interrogation, I found this extremely short and not very persuasive/interrogating on the officer's part). But that's just what I think. If you're really striving for it to be accurate, I would check your facts. Otherwise, it's all good.

That being said, here are a few grammatical errors I noticed. The corrections are in red.

"Patrick Hale Nelson." The interrogator threw the papers down on the table. I looked down at them, and back at the man, disgusted. They were about Patrick; about his bloodied body, anyway. "His throat was slit," he ran his finger along the curve of his neck, "from one ear to the other." He pulled a chair up next to me. I could smell the cigarette smoke on his clothes. All I could think is how the D.A.R.E. officers used to come to my elementary school telling us to stay away from the stuff. Hypocrites.

I sat calmly. They had nothing, I was sure of it. Still, what if I'd... no. I'd been careful. No one saw me slip into his house that night. Plus, everyone saw me at the party. As far as Brenden knew, I was with him all night. Thank God for cough medicine and sleeping pills. But, still...

"I heard about that." I replied. (I would add this merely because I got confused a bit right here, wondering who was talking. Sorry)

"You heard about it." I nodded. "Did your ex-girlfriend tell ya' 'bout it?" I glared him in the eye, but he held my gaze. How did he know about Carson?

"No, we don't really talk anymore." Our eyes were locked. He wanted me to look away, but I had no problem lying to someone's face. "The whole school knows about it. One of the most liked people in the school turns up dead, so of course everyone's gonna be talking."

"So you liked Patrick? (It sounds more like a questions in context than a statement)" He finally looked away as he stood up. He paced past the one way mirror in the wall. He was trying to make me nervous. It didn't work. I sat still with my arms folded casually on the table, careful not to fidget or mess with my hands; sure signs of a liar.

"He sat at my table in chemestry. Seemed pretty cool." I paused, dramatic effect, and added with perfect remorse, "He's really gone isn't he?" As I listened to myself talk, I sent a silent 'thank you' to my middle school drama teacher.

"Sell the role, Zach. Do that, and you can be anyone." Mrs. H always told me. She would be proud of my performance.

"Even after he stole your girlfriend." He nodded thoughtfully as he paced. I wanted to scream at him. Carson wasn't just a piece of property to be taken. But I kept my palms flat, though they longed to be balled into fists. Sell the role, Zach the demon of my ego whispered ever so sweetly. I wasn't going to give the observers on the other side of the glass the show they wanted. No confession, no arrest. Not today.

"Bros before hoes." It left a bitter taste on my tongue. It's not real, I reminded myself, it's just a role. A cell phone rang, echoing in the nearly empty room. The interrogator pulled a Blackberry from his pant pocket.

"Jentzen." He stated his name to the caller. He listened a moment, grumbled something incomprehensible to me, and hung up. The way he pounded the key, angry, frustrated. I knew what was coming next. He walked to the door, and held it open for someone to walk through. "You're free to go. Thank you for your cooperation." I stood up wordlessly and pushed my chair in the good boy they needed to believe I was.

"No problem." I said as I walked past. I didn't look back as I strolled down the hallway. I waited till I'd pushed through the revolving doors that lead to the sidewalk outside. Only then did I let myself to glance back. Just as I'd hoped, no one paid any attention to me. Even the interrogator was sitting in front of a computer screen, having no interest in his dead end lead. A grin slid across my face.

I did it.

And I won.

I turned away, and walked down the street like any teenager would on any normal day, maybe on their way home or to a friend's house; but, I had bigger plans. I had a murder weapon to dispose of. And it was a resting heavily in my jean's pocket.

Personally this was really interesting to read. I love seeing things like this in perspective of the "bad" guy. Very creative, but I think you could incorporate more suspense next time.

So hopefully this review helped a little. Keep it up

~Peanut

Hello. Because most of the reviews on here are grammar related, I'm going to primarily focus on content.

The interrogator threw the papers down on the table. I looked down at them and back at the man disgusted. They were of Patrick, of his bloodied body anyway.

When you say papers, it gives the reader the impression that the interrogator is throwing legal documents on the table. However, when you go on to say "they were of Patrick, of his bloodied body anyway" we realize that you are referring to photos. Do you see how that might be confusing? I think you should replace "papers" with photos to keep the words consistent.

Still, what if I'd...no. I'd been careful.

"Still, what if I'd... No, I'd been careful." See how the capitalization of the "n" gives this sentence a more dramatic effect, whereas you had it hanging loosely after the eclipse previously.

"I heard about that." I replied.

I suggest adding some words before this sentence, because by the time a reader gets to Zach's response, they've already forgotten what the officer said previously.

"No, I was with my friend, Brenden, all night. You can ask him." I realized I hadn't answered his prior question."The whole school knows about it. One of the most liked people in the school turns up dead, of course everyone's gonna be talking."

What previous question? Zach already answered the previous question. Additionally, the dialogue here is a bit awkward. "One of the most liked people..." It feels scripted, but perhaps that's what you intended, since Zach is acting during his whole interrogation and all.

I waited till I pushed through the revolving doors that lead to the sidewalk outside.

*led

Overall, I think you did a decent job. You grip the reader with the bloodied photos of Patrick's murder. I don't watch many crime tv shows nor have read about interrogations, so I won't be much help with the actual realism of the interrogation. Zach was a very interesting character. I really enjoyed the drama teacher bit. I would imagine Zach would be at least somewhat scared though. You portray him as almost a fearless entity. Like other reviewers. I like how Zach is guilty of the murder, it spices things up a notch. Happy Writing!

-Crescent
P.S. Next time, please include a link to your short story, not the forum. Sleuthing isn't as fun as you'd think it is.