Young Writers Society

Snow reminded me of absolutely nothing. It always had, and it had also always perplexed me. Perhaps it was its pureness; the white sparkles that gleamed off the sunlight refracting into my grey eyes distracted me from thinking anything of it whatsoever. On that late November day, I decided that is was best for the snow to have my attention than anything else around me.

It looked like a satirical picture. The fresh blanket of winter laid across the gravestones, the tops of flowers were wilted and dead like all those who permenantly resided beneath them. I sighed as my eyes danced across the names of the graves closest to my wooden chair and then let myself peer upwards at the clouds.

'Do people really believe that when their loved ones die they goto Heaven? Do they really think they're looking down at them?' I thought bitterly to myself. For if something so surreal were so true, then these funeral services would not be lined with tears.

Somebody was speaking in the distance, and it was a voice I thoroughly recognized though I did not wish to hear their words. I knew what they would be saying, and what they would be forcing me to remember. I did not want to remember the trials and tribulations of what had happened the past years. What I wanted to recall was the way that you would lean forward slightly overtop of your acoustic guitar and bring your calloused fingers to the side of my face, caressing them roughly down my cheek. The smile you would give me would always be so genuine as you bore your baby blue eyes into me, searching my soul for all the answers you already had. You knew me so well, better than I knew myself. You would bring your lips softly to the back of my hand or the nape of neck and whisper, "You're the sweetest Angel,". I would try so hard not to breakdown.

Your hand was something that felt familiar in mine, and even though we could never be together because I could not return what you had for me, I still clasped your digits as tight as I could. How foolish was I, for I should have remembered that when you hold sand too tightly all it will do is slip through the cracks in your fingers.

Another hand reached out from beside me and grasped my leg. I turned to face the contorted, sorrowful face of your best friend...your Brother. He was whimpering deep in his chest, his body shook vigorously and his eyes pleaded for mercy from the pain. I frowned and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, hoping to bring the comfort you always used to.

"He always loved you Mysty," he cried quietly in my ear as he leant his head on my shoulder.

"He'll always be apart of our family, Hayden. He always will be there," I assured him. The cold felt distant to me, though my body shivered against it and I cowered underneath my jacket. It was probably because my mind was too distracted elsewhere, recalling the touch of your warmth against mine.

Your songs would never leave me, that much I knew. The way you had made me feel like I was worthwhile would never leave, and the way you always made us smile and got us out of all the trouble we got into. The way you'd always be the one in worse trouble.

I heard my name called and Hayden pushed me from my seat, I stumbled out onto the aisle as all eyes turned towards me. I had no fear of speaking in front of audiences, but as I twiddled the high school ring you had given to me around my pinky finger, fear hit me like it never had before. Such fear that my heart stilled and my breath stopped cold within my lungs.

As I approached the podium at the front of the funeral, I glanced sideways at the small casing that held you in your final form; Ashes. I choked on my own words and the speech I had written lay forgotten in my pocket. Tearful faces looked up at me with bits of hope, did they think that I would have the words to ease their pain? Did they not see how broken I've become inside since you took yourself away from here?

I leaned heavily onto the podium and felt myself sobbing as my tears froze to my quivering cheeks, "Does this mean you're my angel now?"

Unable to take it anymore, I burst away from the crowd. I couldn't look back at you, I had to keep looking forward.

I see you have four likes but no comments, so I decided to comment. I can't find anything wrong but that may be because I'm being pretty emontional right now. You used great descriptive words and I can see how much this guy meant to you. So Wow. I'm sorry for your loss and I hope writing will always help.

I can't help but agree. It is hard to find errors when your so enveloped in the emotion you have given us.

I'm sorry for your loss, but grateful for this beautiful piece. I hope somebody reads this. THough there is no, "fixing"
and feeling better, no happy ending, sometimes empathy and understanding is all that is needed.

Beautiful and left me tearful and needy for my own angel.

Deirdre

Mystiquevander,

Honestly, I wasn't sure if I should be commenting on something like this. But I thought you should hear this...
It is so deeply emotional (as the others have said), and honestly, this was flawless. And when expressing or releasing your emotions, feelings and deep thoughts like that, how could something like this ever have flaws? Ever be wrong? It felt so right to be reading and I think it's something that can be turned into something positive. What I mean is, this will encourage young people like us, to talk and openly express our deep, inner feelings, and not keep them bottled up, slowly eating us away. So, thank-you sooo much for expressing your emotions.

I also think it takes so much courage, and strength to write about somethng like this. I am so sorry for your loss, but if anything, I think you are a really strong person for being able to "let go" and still remember! I think many people often make the mistake of moving on and forgetting, and why would you forget? Having someone close to your heart, is better than having nothing there at all. You are such a strong person and a beautiful writer.

My love and wishes...

RedLeaf

Writing comes easiest when we are writing what we know. What we feel, dream of, believe in, are hurt by - all emotions strongest and most alive in us comes into play as writers. It is how we give. This piece was as beautiful as it was because it comes from straight inside of you. Your words, style, structure and flow are beautiful, but the feeling behind it was the captivating key to your whole story. I am so sorry for your loss but pray you will continue to write through it - you are making something beautiful out of a very hard situation and giving the rest of us around you the courage to keep writing, keep breathing, keep living our lives like they were worth living, even when we love the ones we love most. Keep writing.

Wow, just wow. You almost had me crying. This piece felt so personal that it was almost hard to read.
I am so sorry for your loss. You have a lot of courage to be able to write this, and share it with others.

I agree that this was immensely powerful. I don't want to echo the others, but I felt like this did come from your heart of hearts--and it was as emotionally gripping as everyone said.

But I didn't feel like this was perfect.

You could condense paragraphs to make the whole thing tighter and read more smoothly. For example,

"Somebody was speaking in the distance, and it was a voice I thoroughly recognized though I did not wish to hear their words. I knew what they would be saying, and what they would be forcing me to remember. I did not want to remember the trials and tribulations of what had happened the past years."

This half-paragraph is really hard to get through. It would be much better if you were to condense this into one sentence, even if it was long, or two shorter sentences. Here's how I would shorten it:

"From a distance, I recognized a voice I'd known so well, yet one that I did not wish to hear ever again; I knew exactly what it would say, what it would force me to remember."

The revision is much more succinct and fluid. It is much easier for readers to get through, and therefore accentuates the authenticity and intensity of the emotion so much more. You should go through the entire piece and think of ways to condense and minimize the extra fat. Emotions are much stronger when they are delivered in short bursts, rather than long paragraphs. I feel like it would also bring out more insights, since right now your current insights are bogged down by unnecessary words.

I'd love it if you connected the snow in the beginning back to the ending. Right now, the poem--though with affecting rhymes--feels uninspired, when you had just told us already in the story that "on that day in cold November, you did your best to remember That even though he had passed your memories of him would last."

Overall, emotionally powerful--but not enough.

Hope I helped!

Dear Gadi,
this is an exceptinal piece and I am sorry for your loss. This story has an altogether ethreal yet down to earth feel to it. In the beginning, earthreal especially comes in. The snow, the long-lost memories, the clear denial of the truth, and the acceptance of the denial of this truth itself. It was down-to-earth when you talked about actual moments in time with him: his acoustic gatar,your nickname, and when you talked about the actual funeral. Even in the beginning, with the gravestones. The only scene that seemed to stick out to me was when you said at the funeral about him being your angel now. This made me want to laugh at the irony of it and cry at the sadness of the irony all at once. Thank you so much for sharing this piece.
CHOW FOR NOW,
sionarama