Young Writers Society

NerdBurga wrote:She sat in bed, a place where she had not left for 2 days. Never had she felt this depressed or lonely. Every time she closed her eyes she would see his face.Okay, you're tenses are a bit mixed up. you started off in present tense, and now its in past tense. Every detail would be clear. His stubble that suited him so well, his thick brown hair, his beautiful green eyes. And she would remember him speak. She would sink into the sound of his voice, the voice that was as rich as dark chocolate.Has this character got a name? It feels repetative with she she she.

There was this one particular memory, the memory of these two lovers meeting for the first timeMemory feels a bit too much. say it once prehaps? There was this one particular time, the memory of thise two lovers meeting for the first time?. She had been looking in the windows of a junk shop, curious to see what little treasures would be inside. A wind chime near the door of the shop lit up the air with it's metallic yet delicate clinkingAgain, you've mixd up your tenses.. A man inside the shop appeared on the other side of the window. Distracted, she looked up at him. It was the first time she had ever seen him, and had no idea in the slightest what an impact he would have on her later onThe narrative is changing here. Or is it just me? But it feels like you've started the story again from a different perpective. It no longer a memory, but a narrative. Maybe a new paragraph?.

But she no longer wanted to dwell on the past. Using every ounce of strength and determination, she slid out from the silk sheets of her bed and slid right down to the floor. It wasn't much, but that first move had given her hope that she really could move on. So she picked herself up off the floor and finally found herself in an upright position. new paragraph here: new topicShe glanced at her desk and saw the small Chinese box. Inside would be two metallic balls painted with the symbols of ying and yang, and with bells hidden inside. She used them whenever she wanted to cheer up. The sound they made when the little bells started chiming was 'were' instead of 'was' because its plural like nothing she had ever heard before, so they didn't remind her of anything. This meant she wouldn't get sentimental, and she would not think of any sad memories, she would be able to choose her thoughts. They helped her to be in control of her own mind. slightly confused here. How can bells have no sentimental meaning? Surely you'll now associate the bells with sadness?

So she went over to the little box. She picked up the two little balls inside and started to roll them around in the palm of her hand. Soon she would be happy and content. Just as she started to smile, something happened that had never happened before. The balls made her think of a memory. Those little bells that she had relied on sounded just like the sound of the wind chime that had been outside the junk shop. The shop where she met him. This memory was one that always brought tears to her eyes. As the last of her hope escaped her, she sunk to cold, dusty floor once more, not sure she would ever rise again. Aww...no you've made me feel really sorry for the character here. But it was a bit too rushed as i had to read it really slowly to get the sadness, because there are too many short sentences.

where she had not left for 2 days.

She sat in bed, a place where she had not left for 2 days.

There was this one particular memory, the memory of these two lovers meeting for the first time

She had been looking in the windows of a junk shop

treasures would be inside.

A wind chime near the door of the shop lit up the air

Distracted, she looked up at him.

It was the first time she had ever seen him, and had no idea in the slightest what an impact he would have on her later on

she slid out from the silk sheets of her bed and slid right down to the floor.

So she picked herself up off the floor

and yang, and with bells hidden inside.

She used them whenever she wanted to cheer up.

This meant she wouldn't get sentimental, and she would not think of any sad memories, she would be able to choose her thoughts. They helped her to be in control of her own mind.

Just as she started to smile, something happened that had never happened before.

Those little bells that she had relied on sounded just like the sound of the wind chime that had been outside the junk shop.

she sunk to cold

not sure she would ever

Distracted, she had looked up at him.

She sat in bed, a place that she had not left for 2 days. Never had she felt this depressed or lonely. Every time she closed her eyes she would see his face. Every detail would be clear: his stubble that suited him so well, his thick brown hair, his beautiful green eyes. And she would remember him speak. She would sink into the sound of his voice, the voice that was as rich as dark chocolate.

There was this one particular memory, the memory of these two lovers meeting for the first time. She had been looking at the windows of a junk shop, curious to see what little treasures would be inside. A wind chime near the door of the shop lit up the air with its metallic, yet delicate clinking. A man inside the shop appeared on the other side of the window. Distracted, she looked up at him. It was the first time she had ever seen him, and had no idea in the slightest what an impact he would have on her later on.

But she no longer wanted to dwell on the past. Using every ounce of strength and determination, she slid out from the silk sheets of her bed and slid right down to the floor. It wasn't much, but that first move had given her the hope that she really could move on. So she picked herself up off the floor and finally found herself in an upright position. She glanced at her desk and saw the small Chinese box. Inside there were two metallic balls painted with the symbols of ying and yang, and with bells hidden inside. She used them whenever she wanted to cheer up. The sound they made when the little bells started chiming was like nothing she had ever heard before, so they didn't remind her of anything. This meant she wouldn't get sentimental, and she would not think of any sad memories, she would be able to choose her thoughts. They helped her to be in control of her own mind.

So she went over to the little box. She picked up the two little balls inside and started to roll them around in the palm of her hand. Soon she would be happy and content. Just as she started to smile, something happened that had never happened before. The balls made her think of a memory. Those little bells that she had relied on sounded just like the sound of the wind chime that had been outside the junk shop. The shop where she met him. This memory was one that always used to bring tears to her eyes. As the last of her hope escaped her, she sunk to the cold, dusty floor once more, not sure whether she would ever rise again.