Young Writers Society

*Tell me what you think*

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Chapter One: Bitten

Three men crowded around him in the dark London alley way. He muttered something about not having any money. Buggar he could be stupid sometimes. They laughed, they were speaking another language. French maybe? Italian? Then one of them lunged at him. He hit the ground with incredible force. His heart was racing. Then, no, it couldn't be, his attacker's teeth they were... He was leaning in to Flynn's neck. Flynn began screaming, not in fear in pain.

Flynn shot up in his bed, breathing heavily. His alarm was going off. He hit the snooze button before turning it off then shoved his glasses onto his face. He was late. After a two minute shower Flynn ran around his room trying to find something clean to wear to work. Jeans, shirt, shirt, shirt? Where's a bloody shirt! He found on in between his comforter and sheets, smelled clean enough. He tried to ignore the five inch long scratch across his back, tried to forget what happened last night. He checked his neck in the mirror, the two wounds were gone. How could that be? His neck still hurt where they had been. He was sure the whole thing had not been simply a dream, it couldn't be.

He got into his car and realised for the first time he had forgotten to put his glasses back on after his shower. But he could see just fine. His hands were shaking. He put the car in drive and headed to his office. Well, it wasn't really an office, more like a studio. He was a photographer and he had to develop the film from the wedding last weekend. Rowan was sitting at her desk taking calls.

"Flynn, you okay?" She called as he walked past her to his work table. He threw his keys down on the scratched wood and hung his jacket on the back of the leather chair.

"Yeah, why do you ask?" His tone was different, icy.

"You look pale, have you been working out?" She asked walking over to him and examining his torso.

" Um, no." He sat in his chair and begna mixing up the solution to develop the photos in.

"Oh, you just look more..muscular. You get contacts?" she put her warm hand on his shoulder but quickly withdrew it, "Oh you feel cold. Shall I turn the heater on?"

"No! Stop interrogating me!" He huffed, stood up, walked to the bathroom and locked himself in. He put his hands on either side of the sink and stared into the mirror.

"Alright Flynn," He told his reflection, "you're okay, stop over reacting." But he wasn't over reacting, something was terribly terribly wrong with him. There was a knock on the door, "I'm a little busy." He said in an annoyed tone. What was wrong with him? He never lost his temper, especially with Rowan.

"Flynn, Graham is on the phone, your brother." Flynn took a deep breathe then turned and opened the door. He remembered that his brother had already been gone this morning when he had checked for him, but forgot quickly in all the confusion. Rowan was standing there with phone in hand.

"You sure you're okay?" She asked quietly and handed him the phone. He nodded. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair and walked back to her desk.

"Hello?" He said into the reciever, somewhat distracted.

"Flynn it's Graham, you have to help me. Something's happened. Meet me at the pub." Then without another word Graham was gone. Flynn pulled the phone away from his ear, punched the end button and handed the phone back to Rowan.

"Everything alright?" She asked half standing up from her desk.

"No I have to go." He motion for her to sit back down, then Flynn walked over to his work table,picked up his car keys, pulled his jacket back on and was out the door again. He walked the two blocks to the first pub he and Graham had ever snuck out to go to, the first place Flynn had ever had to bring Graham home drunk from, the Talon Pub.

Hiya! First can I say welcomes to YWS! I hope you will enjoy this place as much as me! Now, lets see what we have here shall we?

'Then one of them lunged at him. He hit the ground with incredible force. His heart was racing. Then, no, it couldn't be, his attacker's teeth they were... He was leaning in to Flynn's neck.' OK, I got very confused over who 'he' was. It got very mixed up, use nouns instead of pronouns in some plaec to make it easier for the reader.

'Flynn began screaming, not in fear in pain.' So flat, so... boring! How about 'Flynn let out a screech, pain flowing through him like a river' or something like that. Not a lot better but still!

'He found one'

OK, I'll be honest, I like where youy are going with this, just be careful not to make it too cliche. Some of your sentences are a bit weak, but others are very strong. You are a good writer...

Keep writing!

~D'Aedomir~

He motion for her to sit back down, then Flynn walked over to his work table,picked up his car keys, pulled his jacket back on and was out the door again.


It should be motioned.[???] Not sure but, motion just doesn't sound right


He sat in his chair and begna mixing up the solution to develop the photos in.


It should be began...

And thats all. This was pretty good, I really wanna see why he goes to the pub.

I'll be sure to read the next one

sorry about the punctuation errors! My keyboard buttons dont work sometimes! I will post the next chapter soon..hope you liked this one!

I think you are somewhat anxious to get this story written, because as I read this, I find myself desiring detail and clarity. I find the most common diagnosis for that problem is simply wanting to get the story written.

I would say slow things down a bit. Add more detail. Describe the men Flynn is with in his dream. Establish some of Flynn's lifestyle by giving us even just a paragraph telling us what his home is like. This will make the story seem more realistic, and the reader won't feel quite so rushed.

Also, how does Flynn feel? How does he react when he finds out he can see? I myself am visually impaired, and I think I would be utterly shocked if I found out I could see perfectly without my contacts. Does he feel cold? How is his body reacting to all these new changes? These are things that interest me as I read this.

My advice on the starting scene is to simply give us some more description. If you want it in a dreamy, vision-like format, then you don't have to divulge all the details, but give us something to go on. Did Flynn have any premonition that there was something bad about these men? Was their something alarming about their appearance? Did they look like "vampires" or just regular guys off the street? Any of these would make the first scene just a bit more intriguing.

For the second scene, I'd say establish some of Flynn's current life. Obviously, these physical changes are going to have an effect on his everyday life, so we need to know what his everyday life is like. Is he happy? Is he depressed? Does he have good relations with most people? This will help us latch on to some of the more emotional shifts that may occur later on in the story.

All-in-all, just stretch out the story. Running the risk of sounding like a 6th Grade English teacher, show us, don't just tell us. You have a lot of good bits of writing in this, you simply need to tie it together with some detail and description.

Those are my thoughts.

-Kakky-

Well, everyone beat me to the technical stuff, but here goes.

Hmm... very interesting.

Your structure is good, although you might want to clean the format (paragraphs and such.) Also, "Buggar" needs a comma after it.

Anyway, you still did a good job. Please post more soon!

*alright here is my revised chapter one..i"ve started the story a few days earlier in the characters lives and slightly changed the setting*

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Chapter One: Flynn

Flynn slipped on his shoes and walked out onto the terrace attached to his bedroom. He set his coffee down on the black wrought iron table and began snapping photographs of the sunrise. He adjusted his glasses while he browsed through the pictures he had just snapped, picking out the good ones. Photography was his passion, he had photographed his way through life, seeing it all through the lense of a camera. Unfortunatly he was stuck doing less artistic jobs on a day to day basis. He heard a shuffling of noise behind him but he didn't bother to turn around, he knew who it was.

"Merci Maxime!" He called over his shoulder as she made his bed and picked up the scattered garments on the floor.

"Ton frere est ici." She replied absentmindedly tossing the clothes in a white laundry basket sitting on his red bed spread. He looked around at his white walls. He had hung a few black and white photos but other than that they were bare. He sighed and turned back to the sunrise that was streaking pinks, oranges, and yellows across the sky like paint on a canvas.

"Mon Freer!" His brothers footsteps were accompanied by the sound of vodka sloshing in a big glass bottle. Flynn turned to face his twin brother, Riley, who mirored his very image completely except for his bloodshot eyes and now blond hair.

"When did you do that?" He asked tugging on a piece of Riley's hair, to which Riley resonded by pulling out a fag and lighting it while rolling his eyes.

"It was an accident. it wasn't supposed to go completely blond, just lighter. But we were cursed with jet black hair that does not cooperate." He blew smoke and slid on a pair of dark sunglasses.

"A little hung over are we?"

"No, because you see to be hung over I would have to not be currently drunk and 'ave slept a little, and I fill neither of those requirments." He leaned against the terrace door and slid down to the cement floor setting the vodka bottle down next to him with a soft *clink.*

"So you never came home last night?"

"No, I was celebrating. We closed on the Meyer vs. O' Conell case. I think we went to a three or four bars but it's all kinda a haze." He blew more smoke out of his mouth.

"You are going to stink up the whole place. You should get rest, I have a job today."

"Would you stop bloody yelling at me!?" He screamed sliding his glasses down on his nose and looking up at Flynn. "Wedding or Bat Mitzvah?" He asked more calmly reaching up onto the table and grabbing Flynn's coffee. He sniffed it before popping open the vodka bottle and pouring some of the achohal in.

"Wedding." He said glumly taking the bottle from Riley and setting it on the table, almost considering drinking some as he thought about the day ahead.

"You can 'ave somma that mate..I got plenty more in my room." a sly grin spread across his face.

"No, I think the Fertnickies would prefer their wedding photos to be in focus."

"You know I was thinking last night." Riley said standing and following Flynn into his room.

"That's scary."

"We've lived in this dust trap our whole lives, we live here like it's our duty to our parents. But they're dead, 'ave been since we were five, and they're not coming back. Maxime hates the place and were going to be 25, we don't need her to take care of us anymore like when we were little. Why don't we just wash ourselves clean of the place and sell it. You could get a better job somewhere else, I could get a nice little apartment, Maxime could get..a life."

"As always Riley you only think things half through. You pitch this at me every time you get wasted. I'm not selling. You know you couldn't live on your own, you can't even make your own breakfast. You don't have your license yet. Mum and dad left us really well off and we've taken advantage of it."

"Think about it..you could get a job you actually like. We wouldn't have to come home to this dreadful place every day."

"No Riley, get some sleep." Riley shook his head before shuffling out of the room, dripping coffee and vodka on the white carpet and swinging the half empty bottle in his left hand.

Flynn rubbed his temples then changed into dress clothes and gathered up his equipment to carry down stairs and load up.

(coming next Chapter Two: The Wedding)