Young Writers Society

Room

I sit here in silence, watching the raging storm through the open window. The waves of the sea pummel the rocks, abusing their very existence before crashing onto the shore, like two unstoppable forces colliding. The salt lingers in the air, clinging on to my tongue with all dependency. An impenetrable curtain of water sweeps the surface of the sea and as I look up to the sky, the rain pounds on my upturned face.
My uncle always tells me how dangerous the world is; how I am much safer in my room, where he can look after me. But I tire of seeing the same green walls day in and day out. I want to touch the soft leaves on a tree, to feel the spray of the sea of my face. I want to walk on the beach below and let the sand sift through my curled toes. I long to have the sun’s rays beat on my back… but I cannot torture myself with these thoughts.
It’s the memories that I find the hardest to bear, yet I can’t understand where they come from. I see a beautiful woman, with long auburn hair and dark eyes smiling down on me. Her face seems so familiar, but I can’t seem to place it.
If I ask my uncle about her, he makes out that she is just from the land of imagination, made up in my mind and now I cannot tell the difference between dreams and reality. I don’t think this is true. I'm not going mad… am I?
‘It’s a bad place out there,” my uncle says, when I ask him if I can go outside just for an hour or so. “You’re as fragile as a flower, and you know I keep you up here for your own safety. There’s war out there. War, and suffering and hate. You’re much better off staying inside.”
I remain silent; I have heard of war. I know of the hate, of the destruction, of the pain and sacrifice. The occasional calm is welcoming, but war nonetheless is beyond peril and meaning, like every single soldier is an empty container of what once cradled a soul.
Is that all there is to this world? Is there not some good in humanity? There cannot simply be good and evil, but being trapped in this room I will never know. I have to get out. It isn’t a want anymore; it’s a need. A need that’s nestled it’s way deep into my heart. There is so much to see, so much to do, so much for me to experience.
One day, I think, one day. That’s the thought that keeps me going. One day I won’t have to fight within myself to do what it is right, what is good. One day the path I should take will all be clear in my head and there will be more questions. I won’t need to hide my thoughts, my hopes, dreams and desires. I will show them off to the world.
And I will be me.

Hello, i think that this is a great opening to quite an exciting book, you have already identified that this story needs expansion. i would suggest having your main character escape from this room, maybe more about the character. i would have her falling in love with a character and some how ending up in an fantasy land. You could then have a good twist at the end that she thought she had gone into the real world but in fact she had just gone mad. it was all in her head and she was still in the room. This would be challenging to write but so rewarding and you would have so much freedom with it. i would also add more short simple sentences into this story to create more tension and put these lines on their own, however i love the basis of this story, it's well written and could go so far. keep going!

Hey there.

This was a pleasure to read. The first paragraph was a good anchor for setting, but the second one really drew me in; it sets the tone of the piece, and distinguishes it from the other stories that begin with such a setting.
There were only a few errors as far as punctuation:

‘It’s a bad place out there,”

It should be a double-quotation mark.

A need that’s nestled it’s its way deep into my heart.

One day the path I should take will all be clear in my head and there will be more questions.

This is just personal preference, feel free to ignore, but this sentence got a little wordy and detracted from the great story flow you had going.



Overall, this was a great piece. You have a knack for writing introspection, which I know can sometimes be difficult to pull off--you did it wonderfully.
I agree with the above review, that this could be the start of a longer story. However, it also works as a stand-alone with a cliffhanger; it raises some definite questions for the reader (who is the woman? Is the narrator really going mad?), but sometimes that's a good trait for a short story.

Anyway, well done, and keep up the good work. If you do decide to continue or elaborate on this, please let me know.