z

Young Writers Society


1985 Chapter 1



Random avatar


Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 8
Sun Aug 17, 2008 3:48 am
david2oo8 says...



This is a story that i am in two minds about continuing so i would like some feedback to see if its worth me continuing. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
Oh and may i add i am from the UK so some words may be spelled differently.


James sat there in his pale blue room, ironically the colour of his room reflected his mood exactly. James was blue, for lack of a better word, and he knew exactly why, he had been through a turbulent year to say the very least and at the end of it all he had nothing to show for it bar a piece of paper in his hand. In his life he had fought adversaries greater than him and came out on top. Now, however, it had been a single piece of paper, a small and unthreatening piece of paper that had defeated him. In his mind he saw himself fighting metaphorical monsters, ones he had slain with relative easy, and of all the huge monstrous enemies he had overcome, it was a single sheet of paper that had taken him down.

James remembered the year had started off like any other, all around him were full of hope and confidence that this year would a good one, little did any of them know it was to be a year no one could forget and one which no one ever wanted to fully remember. James sat in the living room of an old brownstone row house that belonged to his aunt and sipped champagne with his friends and family, everyone spoke of how lovely the Christmas had been just 7 days previous and what their aspirations were for the coming year. James on the other hand was quiet, James had lived his life different from all of his family, and to an extent differently from his friends as well. This wasn’t a quiet protest or was he trying to be different, no James was quietly and complacently watching the clock on the mantelpiece of his aunts living room waiting for the year of 1984 to finally come. The clock was very grandiose and luxurious but this wasn’t what interested James, no he was more interested in what the clock was telling him. As in two minutes and thirty-two seconds the year of 1983 would come to an end. James was never a fan of parties, in fact by watching the clock like a hawk it gave him the perfect opportunity to ignore the surrounding pandemonium that was New Years Eve 1983. James didn’t know what it was about the up coming year but he felt wary of it, in fact he had said so quite a number of times to close friends. 1984, which came in one minute and fifty-six seconds, had an aura of immorality to it, it was after all immortalised in writing, and not in a good way. As the clock ticked James became anxious as if as soon as the clock hit twelve, which was in one minute and two seconds, his whole reality would collapse, or something like that. He wondered, what was going to happen, was the world going to change, was Big Brother going to be implicated as soon as the clock chimed twelve? He knew the answer was no but he still couldn’t rid the thought that 1984, which arrived in twenty-four seconds, was going to be a unpleasant year to say the least. Everyone surrounded the television and watched as the presenter count down from ten, James continued to watch the clock. James sipped at his glass, 9, continuing to watch the clock, 6, not really knowing why, 3, but he knew he had to remember the exact moment this year arrived, 2 … 1! The room erupted in cheers, 1984 was here. James felt fine, of course he did nothing had changed, yet.

James was back in his room, he had made such an effort to remember every detail of that night that it felt like just yesterday. In fact that night had taken place 364 days previous, tomorrow would be exactly a year to the day that he had the first feelings that 1984 was a bad year. Looking back James’ anxiety was well placed as the year he had been through was a nightmare of epic proportions, and the piece of paper in his hand proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt.
James looked around his room, looking at every minute detail there was. Lucky for him he had a very plain room with no more than his bed, a desk and chair which he sat at, a tape deck and a drawer full of his clothes and other belongings. Even though James was but seventeen years old and still staying with his parents, he looked around the room like an old man taking one final look before death came calling. He stood up, the first time since the piece of paper he held in his hand was delivered to him. James walked around the room touching everything gently, every object in his room was significant to him, none more so than the sheet of paper in his hand. He felt like a blind man able to see life for what it was, incomprehensibly beautiful. James lay back in his bed and let the piece of paper drop from his hand for the first time since he received it, James watched the ceiling and wondered where his life would go from here, all his plans had come to an abrupt halt as soon as he read the piece of paper and what it had proclaimed to him. He imagined himself in his thirties, a successful business man with a successful love life, ironically that is what would halt this fantasy from ever coming true as on the floor laying face down was a letter to James that read.

“Dear James Brown Junior,

We have the unfortunate and sad duty to tell you that your results came back positive. It is with a heavy heart that we have to tell you that you are HIV positive. We shall do everything in our power to help you through this time but due to it being a relatively new disease we know little about it. I am sorry that we had to write to you about this but we failed contact with you on several occasions, both through telephone and personally. We wish you the best and if our surgery can do anything for you all you will have to do is contact us.

Dr Cash
Brooklyn, New York”

James started to weep as he lay on his bed thinking of nothing but his life which seemed so short and yet was coming to a close. As bad as 1984 was for James and his family, 1985 would be much, much worse.
  





Random avatar


Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 8
Sun Aug 17, 2008 1:48 pm
david2oo8 says...



Ok so i guess its a no for this story then lol.
  





User avatar
15 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 15
Sun Aug 17, 2008 10:11 pm
OutOfInk says...



Ssss Mmmm... To be honest with you I didn't like it. I did, however, enjoy your writing style, especially the first paragraph . But stories about diseases moreover HIV and other STDs is not something a lot of people like to concern themselves with (I know I don't).

I don't know if you noticed or not but the main character is named James Brown, if your going to have him named after a celebrity then it's a good idea to voice that in the begin or your readers will feel like you don't know what your talking about. (although I'm not sure if you know who James Brown is in the UK)

And the story is called 1985, from just looking at the story's title I thought it was a spin off of "1984". It was good that you voiced how the story collaborated with the "1984" but it doesn't really make any since why you chose the same year to place your story in. It also kind of confuses the reader into thinking that it's all ready 1985 or it's just turning 1985 (I had to back track to understand it). If you do wind up writing it I would strongly suggest you change the name.

Some people will like it and some people will hate it (which is the risk you have to take on those kinds subjects). My opinion is that it would make a pretty good play after you polish it up a little bit. I have a lot of experience with plays and their are surprisingly a lot of Social awareness subjects like that.

But all in all you have a pretty good talent and you should, of course, keep on writing.
  





Random avatar


Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 8
Sun Aug 17, 2008 10:34 pm
david2oo8 says...



Thanks for that.

I did realise that it would be a love it or hate it storyline, it was just a story i thought could be good and its not exactly one that a lot of people would have written or read.

I didnt realise that his name was James Brown until you wrote there lol, it was just a name i picked out of no where really. Funny coincidence is all.

The years i must admit were kind of confusing, it was going to be 1984 but there would be obvious connections to the book. Its set there because HIV is a new and scary disease, now its devastating but people can live a full and happy life with it, were as back then it was basically a death sentence. Now thats just my research telling me this. Also if i set it too early, 1981, it would be before AIDS or HIV was really well known and if it was too late, 1988, then the panic would have decreased.

I could put it into a play but there is a very strong narrative behind the story and i think that would be tough to put into a play, i could have a lot of monologues.

Thanks for your opinion and i am glad you gave me your honest opinion as opposed to saying you loved it when you didnt, and i thank you for your compliments on my writing.
  





User avatar
147 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 890
Reviews: 147
Mon Aug 18, 2008 1:26 am
jasmine12 says...



okay, i read this earlier today and i couldnt think of anything to say to make it better. You decribed the feelings and his anxiety for that letter so well. You did an amazing job at not giving away why he was so upset until the letter. I hope you do continue to write this story and i look forward to seeing it.
"Sometimes the worst bad guy makes the best good guy." Nigel--Untouched
  





Random avatar


Gender: Male
Points: 890
Reviews: 8
Sun Aug 24, 2008 11:14 pm
david2oo8 says...



Part 2

James spent the next few days in a daze, he was unable to comprehend exactly what had happened. He and a few of his friends had discussed this “new” disease but to ever think it would affect them, in any way, was ludicrous! In fact teachers didn’t even think it was that big of a deal yet, most of them had warned of the disease but most of them thought it was a disease for the gay community and that none of the class could ever contract such a thing. James was not gay, he was totally heterosexual, however that wasn’t to say he was homophobic in any way either, James was happy in his sexuality and anyone else was not his issue. He knew that if, or when, he told his parents of his death sentence that they would instantly think he was gay and if he was honest that would cause more problems that James really wanted to imagine. There was still a stigma attached to being gay, one which would never really leave public schools, and it was this that was responsible for more depression in childhood than any of the so called teachers could imagine. Then James remembered that he was on borrowed time as of this moment, it was as if death himself had sent him a letter. James knew he had to tell his parents, but it was now less than 24 hours until 1985 and to tell your parents that their own son had contracted such a disease at a point in the year when everyone should be happy and joyous just seemed horrid. No he would tell them as soon as the new year was in, or as soon as he had generated the courage to anyway.

James spent this New Years Eve in his own house, family and friends had come over as well and it was a very comforting family atmosphere. His mother was handing out drinks in the corner and generally enjoying life, it was pleasant to see but James still couldn’t rid the over hanging guilt and shame of the letter Dr Cash had sent just one day previous, in fact his parents had brought it up several times but their questioning had been shot down every time. The night when the same as every party had went previously, a drink fuelled exciting night with everyone crowding round the television at 11:59 to watch the presenter count down. James’ Dad complained that James’ mother would miss the new year being ushered in so sent James to find his missing mother. James checked all rooms and finally found his mother, in his room with that single soul destroying piece of paper. The piece of paper was practically soaked with tears from his mothers face, yet when James looked he could find no trace of emotion on her face except the long line of a single tear that ran the length of her cheek. James didn’t really know what to do or say, he still hadn’t fully taken in what the letter had said to him never mind his mother. James’ mother stood up and walked past James with no sign or signal that she had seen him or even knew he existed. James ran after her tugging at her arm so she couldn’t leave him. James’ mother was at the top of the stairs and yanked her arm back with such force that she fell down the stairs with a bone crunching thud. James saw her face as she fell, it didn’t change one single bit. Even when he head smacked the floor below all that changed in her face was that her eyes closed, for the last time. James ran to his mothers aid but he knew what had happened, she was lifeless, but it wasn’t the fall that had taken that away from her it was the letter she had read that had removed all life from her body, the fall only stopped a broken heartbeat. The crowd in the living room cheered as midnight came, the all kissed each other and clapped as the new year arrived, it was officially 1985.

The next few hours James spent in his room vividly remembering what had happened at the stroke of midnight. Remembering his mothers face at the point 1985 arrived would haunt him for the remainder of his life, however long that would be. His father had spent these past few hours in the hospital, he also knew there was nothing he could so to save her, or anyone else could do either. James’ father walked into his house around 6:30 am, six and a half hours into the new year and he was a widower. He walked around the downstairs of the house much like his son had the day before but this time he looked at the ugliness of the world not its comprehensible beauty. James lay in his room with nothing but undying, stupendous remorse in his mind. James looked out as the sun raise in the distant, the sun was raising onto a new world for him, one which would be without his mother and one which would be on borrowed time. His father pushed the door open and sat next to him on the bed, he grasped James’ hand and spoke, “Know that I love you more than anything in this world, and that I will do everything and anything to make sure you live a long and happy life my son.”. James broke down in floods of tears, he knew his fathers promise would never come true and so he spent this time crying in his fathers arms, crying for his lost mother, crying for his lost innocence and crying for his lost life.
  








Poetry is like a bird, it ignores all frontiers.
— Yevgeny Yevtushenko