Young Writers Society

I am a little reluctant to review this. You have had plenty of solid critiques from decent reviewers but you have only edited once? and it seems you haven't taken many of the suggestions to heart. But I will give you a chance. This was decent, I wasn't that satisfied with the conclusion. But I will get to that later. Let's begin.

Dreamworx95 wrote:
As soon as I open my eyes, I know that I’m back in the home. I recognize the scum-stained floor and the dingy bathroom walls. I'm in the rusty bathtub, which is filled with cold water. My arms are shackled above me. I know Mother is here, but I don’t look at her.

This is a good strong opener. I would prefer to see it start at

I know mother is here...

That would be much stronger and you would take the reader straight into the heart of the character/story. The fact he refers to her as mother, although a little cliché, is still reasonably indicative of matriarchal dominance/control. Not to mention the fact he refuses to look at her.

I don’t answer her, but look down at my slimy white body, at my long, floppy fins dangling over the edge of the tub. They are shackled as well. I see my reflection in the still water. My enormous blue fish-eyes stare back at me from my scaly face.

In a way I think you reveal this too soon. Read Franz Kafka 'Metamorphosis'. See how Kafka slowly unravels the the description of the narrator. You can mention the scales or the fish eyes for now but nothing else. And whatever you do don't use dirty bathwater as a reflective surface. I mean that was pretty ridiculous when I read it first time, I remembered last time I had a bath, there was no way bath water reflects your image, no way. This is also akin to a writing taboo, the narrator cheats by looking at himself in a mirror, or any reflective surface, simply so he can describe how he looks. Make him run a fin over his scales or something, don't use the hackneyed, cliché chestnut.

“How did you find me?” My voice gargles, but Mother understands what I’m saying.

Good, see this makes us realise that he isn't completely human but it also paints the scene. It's indirect, unlike the infodump above. Well done.

“You don’t mean that,” Mother says. “I’m barring your window, for your own good.”

It seems a little strange that she hadn't barred it already, considering how vindicative, controlling and intelligent she seems?

I finally look at her. She sits next to me in an old wooden chair, her gray, tear-filled eyes surrounded by dark billows that suck them into her pale, bone-thin face.

First sentence weak. Second sentence is really strong.

“You treat me like a prisoneran animal,” I say. “This is happening because of what you’ve done.”

Nice foreshadowing. I think an animal is stronger and if you italicize animal the reader will know that there is something else in the word, in his thoughts. Contempt.

The soup is grey, cold and slimy. Octopus legs. Raw seafood is the only thing I can eat in this form.

Unflinching, she feeds me the slime.

Say something about how she reacts to him saying he hates her. Make it clear she is unaffected, like he says it all the time.

“You don’t mean it,” she hisses. Her eyes are fiery and crazed, like the first time I tried to leave her - when I was a normal boy.

Great foreshadowing here. This is one thing you do well.

“I’ve thought about killing you before, for doing this to me. I’ve thought about murdering you just to free myself.”

Yuck, change this. This doesn't suit his character and it prevents me from really caring for him, cause now he seems rude, and aggressive. Make it subtle.

I don't want to hurt you mother, sometimes I get these thoughts. Please don't make me hurt you.

I don't know something like that.

She doesn’t look threatened.

How? I mean how does she look? not threatened we know. But does her cold veneer remain? Do her eyes glance away then back to him, disregarding?

Show us...

“Eat your soup,” she states, feeding me the next spoonful.

she states? change this. You can just say 'she says.' eat up your soup' is an imperative not a statement.

I awake when day breaks

ugh cliche.

My arms and legs are shackled. I feel the cold, hard iron bracelets locked around my wrists and ankles.

I’d spent an entire summer swimming in the ocean looking for those pearls.

This is pretty unrealistic. I mean swimming for pearls is impossible isn't it? Don't you dive for them with a tank and weight belt? I maybe wrong, this does seem a little unrealistic. He could mow lawns for a summer to buy her that? It also seems strange that he loved her that much before. It is kind of good, because it exhibits shades of an earlier relationship.

I look up. She smiles brightly, clearly determined to forget everything that happened.

Again with the telling. I don't like it. It might be a stylistic preference though.

I take the fork; the chains tying me down are long enough for me to move my arms and legs, but not long enough to let me out of bed.

I'm sure you see what is wrong with this. Reads incredibly awkwardly.

When I don’t say anything, Mother smoothes out her dress and sits next to me. She takes my hand.

Telling, telling, telling! Etch the mantra show don't tell on the back of your hand when you write. You are almost there, but not quite.

My mother runs her hands down her dress and the seat creaks as she reaches out, taking my hand.

By doing that you get rid of two cliches. Smooths out her dress and takes my hand.

Okay the same little errors surface over and over. So I will skip to the conclusion, the denouement - or lack thereof.

I swim away from the shore, not even turning around to look at the fisherman one last time. I leave everything behind me and dive back under, feeling the water rush past me as I cut through it. Uninhibited, unbound.

Free.

The problem with this is I have already forgotten this story. I am eating toast and watching It's Always Sunny in Philidelphia and my dog is sitting on the couch next to me. My eyes aren't narrow with concern, working over the story, considering the themes and the conclusion. The problem is with the final few lines. You can do one of many things to make this stronger.

1) You can finish it earlier, save all the generic chit chat, and token good byes. Just finish it open.

2) You could leave it poetic and vague. Have the boy dive as deep as he can. Mention something about seeing his father one day again. I don't know something suggestive and wide open.

3) You could finish it with introspection. I don't think it is long enough to justify the long winded And then I realised... ... but life is what you make it. But you could say something like.

I think about Mother, one day she will understand.

I don't know, something like that. Suggestive. It tightly knits the theme of 'if you love them let them go.'

You see what I mean? The ending is a Disney ending, but the story is a Hitchcock story. Give us a 'Hitchcock
Ending.'

Would you please?

Hope that all helps.

JP

Joshuapaul, thank you for your time and suggestions.

It's not that I haven't taken the critiques to heart. My family has been going through a difficult time and I haven't had time to really sit down and edit the story like I want to. I've also read it about a few hundred times, haha, so I need to stay away for a while so I can come back to it with a clear head.

Ah, the cliches. No matter how hard you try to avoid them, someone will always spot them somewhere. Thank you for pointing those out.

As for the other suggestions, very solid advice. Thank you very much, I'll make those changes.

Haha, it really is a Disney ending. Can't disagree with you there, but I do plan to take the story further once I expand and polish this piece. I will do my best to make it a better ending.

Thank you again for your time, and I hope to see you again soon.

Dream.