Little Miss Yellow Eyes

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Little Miss Yellow Eyes
By Angel of Death

Chapter 1

His shift was almost over.

All through the evening, Alden had to endure crying babies, old ladies with bad eyesight and women who were obsessed with carbs. The one woman who resembled a beanpole, with her skinny frame and straight face, kept asking him how many calories was in each food. To humor her, he told her that everything was over three hundred calories but then she wanted to know how many calories were in each ingredient. With a calculator in her hands, and her glasses pushed up to her snowdrop eyes, she waited patiently for Alden to give her the run down of everything. A line was forming behind her and several groans broke free from the hungry customers. Knowing that he'd get in trouble yet again, for not fulfilling everyone's 'needs', Alden shouted 'next.' She was confused at first, but then her cheeks turned a deep red and she stocked away. It was like that all day, except everyone presented their own problem. By time it reached his last hour, his sanity was on it's hands and knees.
The fast food joint was near to being empty. There was only a couple with tripping eyes and first love smiles wedged in the back by the bathroom and an old man with cloud colored hair. He was slowly munching on his burger and reading a newspaper he held in his hands. Bored, Alden stared off into space, anticipating the end of his shift. His gaze shifted from the clock to the door. Outside he could see that the pavement was sprayed with the paint of the setting sun. Cars were slowly drifting by, on their way home. Some people passed the glass door, but thankfully they didn't come in. He didn't know why he couldn't just go home. No one was going to get something to eat anytime soon. It was nearing seven 'o' clock and his shift ended at eight. Every time he looked at the clock, only a minute would have passed by. Closing his eyes, he rested his elbows on the counter and started to massage his temples. He could still hear the argument he had had with his parents that afternoon.
"Graduation is coming up and you need to start applying for colleges." his father said.
"I'm not graduating until June and that's like five months away."
"Well, honey, it's important that you're prepared. Your grades are...okay and we just feel that you need to apply to see what's available."
"Mom, my grades suck ass. The only college I'd get into is Community. Besides it's not for me."
"I've worked hard to save up money just so you could do what you want to do in life but you...you..."
"What I want to do in life doesn't take money. I just have to have raw talent and that's what I have."
"Raw talent, huh? You think you can pay bills with raw talent? Alden you're full of it. Why can't you be like everyone else and have a real dream. Music is a sorry excuse for people who are lazy and don't have nothing better to do with their lives."
"I'm good at what I do, Dad. If you'd just get off your high horse and actually come to one of our gigs then maybe you'd see that."
They were always on him about being responsible and taking life seriously. Nothing he did was good enough for them, unless it was what they wanted for him. In some way he hated them for being so controlling and not understanding anything about him. They thought he was just some fame obsessed kid who just wanted to get rich quick. But they were wrong. Music was his life. It was all he ever cared about. He was the lead vocals in a band with three of his friends called Still Shot and they did gigs all over town. Money and fame could burn in hell for all he cared, he just wanted to play his music forever.
"Honey...I'm here...yeah...uh-huh..." Alden opened his eyes to find his face was inches away from a large red gut. He looked up to see a man with a round face with round brown eyes. Everything about him was round, even his lips were a oval in shape.
"Welcome to Benny's Burgers sir, how may I help you?" he asked, standing straight up. His voice sounded like a hot air balloon, but he's repeated this same phrase a lot today, so much it could easily be a mantra. A cellphone was pressed up against the man's ear and his other hand was in his pocket, digging around for something, probably a wallet. Alden could hear a tired voice on the other end. It was loud and sounded somewhat demanding, he kept nodding and his eyes kept wincing, as if he forgot something. Catching his gaze, the man looked at him.
"What kind of pizza do you serve here?" he asked, scratching his head.
Alden looked at the balding balloon and frowned. He had just said "Welcome to Benny's Burgers..." not too long ago. So obviously hamburgers were sold here and not pizza. His patience on the precipice, he sighed and looked at his typical customer.
"We don't serve pizza here."
"Honey...yeah...yeah...I know..." he said, and then dropping his voice, he whispered shit.
"You see, I'm new in town and I've been searching for what seems like hours for a place where I can order some pepperoni and anchovies pizza. My wife really wants some and she will kill me if I don't bring her back any. Look, I know you could care less about my situation but I need you to help me out here."
"Sir, I'm sorry, we don't serve pizza here and I don't know what else I could tell you."
"Come on, kid. Help me out." he said, covering the receiver."She'll kill me."
"Look, there's a place about one mile from here called Marinara's. They serve good pizza and if you leave now you'll get there before they close."
Pinching his nose, the man nodded and turned away. He whispered something else under his breath and then he started rambling about something to his wife. Just when Alden thought he was leaving, the man turned back around and approached the counter once more.
"Okay, change of plans. I want a burger."
"What kind of burger?"
"Hon, what you want on your burger?"
"Pickles, tomatoes, bacon, mustard, ketchup, peppers, mushrooms..."
"Sir, the menu is up there. You got to order what we serve."
"What ever happened to the customer is always right?" he muttered. His eyebrows were pinched together and his eyes grew dark. Alden could care less if he was annoyed because his nerves weren't exactly light either. Looking at the clock, he saw that there was only twenty minutes remaining. If the man wasn't out by then, he'd have to stay and help him. Benny's Burgers wasn't like McDonald's or Burger King, there was only two people behind the counter ready to take orders. Sometimes, it was only Alden manning the mob and other times he had help. Peter Brooke was not a person you'd want to associate yourself with. Not only was he a suck up who picked at his nose, but he was conceited and self-absorbed. He looked like he belonged in some geek convention, with his black bifocal glasses and thin lips and think eyes. An 'A' was always stamped on all of the test he took and his homework never ceased to be in. Books lined the floor of his car and his backseat and when he talked to you, you could tell that he wasn't interested in anything you said. Alden and Peter went to school together but never talked to each other. His parents knew Peter and thought he was a 'fine boy' and thought that Alden should take lessons from him on how to be self-reliant.
"Can I test taste something?"
"No, sir."
"Then how am I supposed to know what I want to get?"
"Look, you know what a burger tastes like and the menu is right there. I'd suggest The New Comer, if you want something with bacon."
"Okay, I'll have that."
Nodding, Alden started pressing in the order and then, though he didn't want to, he looked up and asked "Will that be all, sir?"
"Can I have two fries and a large vanilla shake? Er...make them fries onion rings, okay?"
"We don't serve onion rings here."
Last edited by Angel of Death on Sun Mar 01, 2009 4:55 pm, edited 6 times in total.
True love, in all it’s celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer’s
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.




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Hello Angel! First of all, I have to say that adding polls to your writing is kind of annoying, although I can see why you did. ^_~ Next time, though, you may simply want to make it a question to your readers rather than a poll.

The doorbell will go off but they would ignore it as if they were deaf.
I don't understand this in context. Why is the doorbell ringing?

Each sound rolls off his tongue into the air
This is sort of strange, considering (as far as I know) you don't used your tongue at all to play a harmonica.

wondering what the jest could but there is none.
I think you're missing words.

It's not such a bad beginning! I have to say that I'm not too fond of prologues. Why not just make it chapter one?

The beginning of it was alright. Wasn't a hook, but it wasn't bad either. The talk about his parents was interesting, but got slightly drab because I don't know him yet, I don't care for him, so it doesn't matter to me. Now, the ending of this section certainly got wild. I think it's too... I don't know. We go from regular annoying teen life who wants to be a musician and is in disagreement with his parents to black magic goddess of music-ness. It is so sudden, too sudden, and just makes me feel bombarded rather than interested. I'm left thinking, "Wait, what?" Maybe take more time to introduce her, and to introduce the mystical side of this story. However you do it, try to avoid all the telling. :D It only makes me sleepy.

Good luck! If you have any questions feel free to message me.

Edit: I forgot something! Another reason why a poll might be bad, for your title, is because we know even less about your story than you do right now! How am I supposed to know what your title should be if I haven't read your whole story? You're the best to decide. ;-)
“It's necessary to have wished for death in order to know how good it is to live.”
― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo




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Suzanne wrote:The beginning of it was alright. Wasn't a hook, but it wasn't bad either. The talk about his parents was interesting, but got slightly drab because I don't know him yet, I don't care for him, so it doesn't matter to me. Now, the ending of this section certainly got wild. I think it's too... I don't know. We go from regular annoying teen life who wants to be a musician and is in disagreement with his parents to black magic goddess of music-ness. It is so sudden, too sudden, and just makes me feel bombarded rather than interested. I'm left thinking, "Wait, what?" Maybe take more time to introduce her, and to introduce the mystical side of this story. However you do it, try to avoid all the telling. :D It only makes me sleepy.


Thanks for the critique Suze!

Introducing this character is really hard to do. Its one of the main things I struggle with. Although I know who she is in terms of feelings and her background, I've always felt that she was too big for me. Hmm, I certainly have my work cut out for me.

And as for the telling, I never ever wanted to run into this type of predicament but okay, when I do the rewrite, I'll be sure to show instead of tell.

There were many drafts of this and it did start off as the first chapter but I kinda changed it to the prologue. And now that I look at it, I think I should make it into Chapter 1.

Notes to self:

* Show not tell
* Transitions
* More descriptions
* Hook

Thanks again, this critique was really helpful ^_^

~Angel
True love, in all it’s celestial charm, and
star-crossed ways, only exist in a writer’s
mind, for humans have not yet learned
how to manifest it.




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Ook, besides the things that Suzanne mentioned, there isn't much to say.

The subway station emptied in a matter of twenty minutes. Only a little old man with a harmonica remained. His face was wrinkly, filled with age spots slightly darker than his pale complexion. Underneath a set of dusty gray brows, rest two misty blue eyes. Clutching my guitar case to my chest, I took a seat on a bench and waited. She said she would be here for me.

This whole paragraph is in past tense, except the word rest. After this, however, it becomes present tense. This is confusing.

“I wish he’d stop playing that damned thing,” he mutters, passing by.

“Some people don’t appreciate music.” a voice as sweet as a skylark’s filled the air.

And here again. The sweeper speaks in present tense, but the girl in past.

deep breaths escapes from his lips.

I think it should be "escape". No 's'.

A smile rose on her heart-shaped face making my lips pull up at the corners as well.

I think you're missing a comma here.

So what if I was giving up Christianity and school to be here.

You lost me on the "Christianity".

Keep writing, I wanna find out more. Hope I helped, as usual!
Got YWS?




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Very interesting, I liked how you started off with the teen waiting at the subway station instead of just heading into action. Allows us to see the main character in that interesting place between leaving one life and entering into the next. The lull between action.

Underneath a set of dusty gray eyebrows, rested two misty blue eyes.

I do agree with an earlier reviewer that this sentence could use a bit of work to make it clearer. These small changes make the description a bit easier to understand what you're trying to say.

Clutching my guitar case to my chest, I took a seat on a bench and waited. She said she would be here for me.

I like these two sentences because they show purpose to his being in the subway. I like how he's not taking action for himself, he's waiting for some one to come and get him. I think it also shows just how nervous he is, both by clutching the guitar case to his chest and the inner dialogue about what 'she said.'

My parents were probably shaking their reddened faces.

Maybe mention at this point about them finding out that he was gone. Because, without that small bit of information, this whole paragraph seems kind of disconnected. I think it would read a bit better if it were so say something like 'My parents were probably shaking their reddened faces as they realized I was gone' or, 'as they thought about how I was gone.' Just, something to impart that idea, that this guy ran away from home.

The doorbell will go off but they would ignore it as if they were deaf.

I know this was in another review, but who would be at the door? Would this be before or after the graduation ceremony?

People passing by stare at him, wondering what the jest could but there is none.

Again, this sentence could use just a little bit of clarity.

His brows are furrowed and each time he makes a round, deep breaths escapes from his lips.

Nitpicky detail, but I think the fact that this character keeps passing by them needs to be clarified just a little.

There, standing in a red trench coat, with long black hair, was a goddess or Miss Laura, to be exact.

This sentence has too many commas and makes it hard to follow. I think it would be a bit easier to read if you put in a full stop at the end of 'goddess,' so it would be: '...was a goddess. Miss Laura, to be exact.' This would make the appositive, 'standing in a red trench coat, with long black hair,' more prominent and easier to follow.

So what if I was giving up Christianity and school to be here.

I do have to agree that Christianity just leaps out of nowhere. I mean, before this we had no idea what his religion was, and now we still have no idea what his religion means to him. Does he care about the religion, was it important to him before he had to give it up? You might just want to generalize his religion. Say something like: 'So what if I was giving up my old religion, or school, to be here?' Or, maybe even connect it back to his parents, if his belief in his religion wasn't that strong. '..I was giving up my parent's religion...'

At least I was living my life my way.

This makes me feel as though he really doesn't care about his religion, because switching religions when one really believes, in this case, doesn't really feel like 'his way.' Because, it seems to me that he has to give up his religion because where he is going requires him to take up a new religion. And, the reason I'm so obsessed with this is because Christianity is actually a very simple religion. I mean, it's a community thing as much as anything is, but it's also mostly a belief. You could be on your own, even without a bible, and still be a Christian. Sorry if it sounds preachy, because in all actuality, most other religions are like that.

The last thing I heard before we became one with the millions of people sprinkled across New York, was the sounds leaking from the harmonica. It floated on the wind, following me as I made my journey to freedom.

I like this part, though, as it ties back to the beginning of the prologue. It also gives the whole thing a lighter feeling than when he was musing about what he was giving up to go to someplace that the readers don't know about. It gives us as much hope as he feels as he leaves his past behind.

As other reviews have pointed out, you need to work on your tenses. It's hard to tell if you want it to be past or present tense, so I didn't bother to point out all of the tense changes. It's something you might want to go through yourself in order to pick out where your tense changes.

I am so interested in where this is going. Prologues are fun, because you never know when they take place. I mean, it could start off years before the first chapter starts, or it could be just minutes before the next chapter. And, yes, I'm mostly just hyping myself up. I do want to find out just who this Miss Laura is and where she's taking the main character. And, I want to know what the main character will be doing and what the plot would be.

So, this is a great beginning for a story. It leaves the reader wanting more and hooks them enough to get them further into the story. :D PM me, please, when you post more and I'll review some more.

Good luck with your writing!

- Tatra
Some people fall in love and touch the sky.
Some people fall in love and find Quicksand.

- Incubus




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So Angel, here I am at long last, ready to review this piece. Sorry it took so long. I've been running around doing all kinds of nothing and haven't had time to sit down and do this. But, here I am now, and it's on to the critique.

Okay, I have to say that I did not like this piece. That doesn't mean it isn't good, but it does fall prey to a potentially crippling cliche. The artistic person whom nobody understands is befriended by a caring individual who makes their life better and helps them. It's been used before and I don't particularly care for it. You may be able to fix it so that it is new and engaging, and if you can, do so.

This story did seem to hold itself together rather well, up until the first time Miss Laura speaks. I don't know whether it is my dislike of this kind of story, or just the way in which she barges in and upsets this chapter. I would like to think that it is the latter. I would like to hear about the shock that the main character has towards meeting this new person all of a sudden. That seems more likely than this just blind acceptance he has.

You did write this story well, I'll give you that. I'm sorry I was so caustic in this review. This story does have the potential to be as good as Secrets of the Unfaithful. You just need to put some work into it before that can happen. Good luck with this, and PM me if you have any questions.

:)
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