Young Writers Society

A story of truth, and though it might be disappointing to some, it is what it is, and I can't change reality, as you will see, I have tried. 




I stand raised by the marble surface with you in front of me, dressed in your flowing white gown, with brown, curling tendrils of hair resting upon your shoulder. I stare into those piercing chestnut eyes, dirt upon your elegant white figure. Except they’re not dirt, they’re another piece in the package of beauty, and in them I lose myself.

We’re in a grand old room, and it rises high above us with a marble ceiling leading up to a circular stained glass mantlepiece. The circular wall surrounding us is covered with windows of it’s own stained glass, casting brilliant colors upon all of the white in the room. Draped from a circular balcony that spans along the walls of the entire room, are strips of red silk decorated with different designs colored mostly of gold. Below our feet is more of the immaculate red in the form of a carpet that leads to the door we entered in what already seems like years ago. On either side of the rug are white chairs, filled by your family as well as mine. Your mother seems to be holding back a tear, and your sister’s everlasting smiles seem to have grown to their largest state.

To my left was the most important man in the room. The man who would fulfill my dream, and seal my destiny. He was saying things now, but to me they were inaudible. I was lost, lost in you, and in the world I had been imagining for countless years.

You reach your hand across across the barrier of air as your lips part and you say two words. The man now talks again, his words directed towards me. I knew what to say, regardless of the fact that I couldn’t hear him. My lips part and I mock you, repeating those same two words.

Your mom is crying now. Your sisters are still grinning, big as the universe. Your father has lifted his arm, slightly embracing your mother as he fights back the tears of joy which are now pleading to him to be released.

I shake my head out of the trance you had put me in, and wonder how this had happened to me, how had all my dreams come true? We begin to move closer, slicing through the chasm of air between us. We meet forehead to forehead, the black of my suit presses against the white of your dress, a stain upon your beautiful figure. Our hearts beat the same rhythm, and I whisper those three overused words. Your smile flashes across your face, and your lips part again, this time to mock me. You speak those three words, those three words I never though I would hear. The now small gap between our faces begins to close, but it never does completely.

Too good to be true, I should have recognized that from the start. Now the deed was done and the pain had struck. I blink away the drowsiness, and my eyes begin to flood. I pound my fist on the mattress for the fifth time and for the same reason. The dream always ends the same. I wake up from the universe I’ve created, the universe I want so badly to live.

I reach my hand down and lift the journal from the side of the bed, another entry of the grief I feel is written in.

I hardly talk to you. The only way I’ve heard your voice in what seems like eternity has been through the dream. I see you rarely, but when I do, the whole of my soul is lit on fire from the brilliant rays that radiate from your own soul. But the fire dies and the darkness drags me back, back to the solitude of knowing I’ll never have the one I want. The only one; You.

They say I don’t know you, and maybe you would agree, but I disagree. I’ve seen you, I’ve been around you, I’ve learned. I’ve known your family my entire life nearly, and I know you more than many others can say they do. So call me naive, crazy, immature, juvenile, moronic or insane. I’ve heard it all, but I don’t care. I love you now as much as I did the moment I laid eyes on you, the moment you said hello. Why you ask? I can’t tell you in words... Give me a chance though, and I’ll show you through my actions. I’ll make all your dreams come true. I promise Alyssa.... I promise....
-JRS

Wow. That was amazing. You said that was based on real events? I could picture everything! I think the personal connection helped make it seem that much more real. I was a little confused at first, but that cleared up as I read more. Over all, good job! I hope I helped, and I hope everything works out!

Hey I'm Jai and I'll be reviewing this today.

A story of truth, and though it might be disappointing to some, it is what it is, and I can't change reality, as you will see, I have tried.

So, I'm just a tad confused here. Is this a foreword/Author's Note, or is this part of the story?

I stand raised by the marble surface with you in front of me, dressed in your flowing white gown, with brown, curling tendrils of hair resting upon your shoulder. I stare into those piercing chestnut eyes, dirt upon your elegant white figure. Except they’re not dirt, they’re another piece in the package of beauty, and in them I lose myself.

While description of a person is very necessary, immediately hitting the reader over the head with a full description isn't what most reader's are expecting. It might just be me, but I like stories that slowly reveal the beauty/looks of a character throughout the story. Also, if her eyes are dirt compared to her white figure, then why isn't her hair? I didn't like the use of the word "dirt". Even the word "blemishes" doesn't work. I've never read a book where the author has called someone's eyes "dirt upon the skin".

Below our feet is more of the immaculate red in the form of a carpet that leads to the door we entered in what already seems like years ago.

This is a run-on sentence, and I lost the meaning of what you were trying to say about half-way through.

On either side of the rug are white chairs, filled by your family as well as mine. Your mother seems to be holding back a tear, and your sister’s everlasting smiles seem to have grown to their largest state.

Nice A wedding, eh?

You reach your hand across across the barrier of air as your lips part and you say two words.

I think this is backwards. "Your lips part and as you say two words, your hand reaches across the barrier of air between us."

My lips part and I mock you, repeating those same two words.

Maybe "mimic".

I promise Alyssa.... I promise....

A bit stalkeresque, but sweet.

Well, overall. This wasn't bad, the title gave away the ending, of course. For a dream, it was very realistic and fluid, however, that's something one would expect from a man who had dreamed this dream over a thousand times. I felt as if this story didn't quite end. Or start, for that matter. As if you've left it hanging for chapter two, and we get to find out exactly who Alyssa is; a movie star and the man is paparazzi? A nurse, and he's a patient? The possibilities are endless.

But I imagine you only wrote this as a short story. As far as your grammar etc goes, you're flawless, I could only find that one error, and it was small.

So, keep writing, reply to this review with any comments or queries

- Jai

That was so good. Intensely so. Your description was amazing. I've seldom read anyone on this site who made such vivid pictures with prose. Your words were heavily descriptive yet they were easy to read. I think it was because you broke the wave of outward description with your own emotions.

You used some original metaphors in this piece and I think that is what I appreciated the most. You described a wedding in such a new way yet still keeping true to the atmosphere, the emotions of the wedding.

I really have nothing to critique. I really just wanted to say that I really enjoyed this piece and I look forward to reading more from you. This was really interesting for me because I usually write my short stories in the same format, in either letters or journal entries.

Anyway, happy new year. And thank you for an awesome read.

Wow that was really deep. Very descriptive, I could literally see myself in that room. Oh and nice word choice, it's amazing how much descriptive words describe a story.

This was a very well-written story! Well-detailed, and the grammar was perfect.

And I dare to contradict seeminglymeaningless, actually having a description in the beginning (just like you do) works for me. It caught my attention, throwing me into the story immediately. I guess it depends on every reader also. But it worked for me.